The Second Time Around
by turntoPaige394
Summary: 28 year-old Unspeakable Hermione Granger gets a chance to go back and give Severus Snape the happiness he never had. But giving something so precious to one such as Severus comes with a hefty price. Time Travel AU [PART 4 of The Ties that Bind series]
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, as always. Not me.**

* * *

 _"Lately, I've been, I've been thinking_  
 _I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_

 _When the evening falls_  
 _And I'm left there with my thoughts_  
 _And the image of you being with someone else_  
 _Well, that's eating me up inside_  
 _But we run our course, we pretend that we're okay_  
 _Now if we jump together at least we can swim_  
 _Far away from the wreck we made_

 _Then only for a minute_  
 _I want to change my mind_  
 _'Cause this just don't feel right to me_  
 _I want to raise your spirits_  
 _I want to see you smile but_  
 _Know that means I'll have to leave..."_

 _-Marshmello feat. Bastille, "Happier"_

x-x-x

She pulled her face from the pensieve for the thousandth time.

Why did she keep doing this to herself?

Hermione sighed deeply, pulling her deep maroon, Ministry issue robes tighter around her shoulders in an attempt to ward off the chill that was inevitable this far deep in the bowls of the Department of Mysteries. As gently as she could, she scooped the silver, shimmering memory strands back into their unbreakable vial and placed the vial back on the shelf where it was first placed nine years ago.

Of course, she knew _why_ she kept re-watching them, why she had continued to watch them over and over nearly every day since she was hired as an Unspeakable. The internal question was, as always, completely rhetorical.

It was the only way she could see him anymore.

So she watched them. Over and over.

She had them memorized.

Fuck.

Hermione rubbed her forehead— she could already feel the beginnings of a migraine that threatened to ruin the rest of her day. If someone had told her when she was still at Hogwarts that after graduation, she would take a job at the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable, she would have kindly shown them the way to the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's. Once the Ministry had failed them so spectacularly during the war, she had wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Even when Harry and Ron had decided to become Aurors, she had never intended to follow them to a place she regarded with such contempt.

And yet here she was: a single, 28 year old Unspeakable who, really, only took the job in order to have access to a dead man's memories.

What the hell had her life become?

Once the war ended, all of her friends and everyone else she'd known had picked up the pieces and pushed forward, determined to live their lives to the fullest. Ron, to their collective shock, married Daphne Greengrass and promptly had a litter of red-haired children; Harry was quietly seeing Draco Malfoy, though why either of them imagined it was a secret was beyond her as it was glaringly obvious; and Ginny, who was three months pregnant, was happily engaged to Dean Thomas. Hell, even Neville and Luna Lovegood were living together now.

Hermione was the only one left who hadn't moved on.

She likely never would.

She slumped against the ornately carved stone basin and stared morosely at the shelf of various memories that were to never be revealed to the public, thinking back to when her life had started going to shit.

The Shrieking Shack.

Before then, she had never really noticed and even if she had, she always had much more pressing things on her mind. You know, like Voldemort and the impending end of the world. He had always just been an authority figure in her life, an admittedly intimidating one, but one that she implicitly knew she could trust. More times than she could count, Hermione had chalked up the anxious fluttering that erupted in her abdomen at the sound of his deep, silky baritone to nothing more than a conditioned response to his impressive presence. She blamed the scorching blushes that his passing gaze in Potions caused her on the bottomless obsidian of his deep-set, Occluded eyes. She attributed the shockingly inappropriate dreams to her overactive teenage hormones and the obliviousness of all boys she had ever gone to school with.

She never once imagined it was all because of something else.

Not until the Shrieking Shack.

She, Harry, and Ron had all watched in horror as Voldemort set Nagini on him. As Voldemort levitated the snake in her opaque protective bubble directly over his head, Hermione had the overwhelming instinct to burst in and save him. They all knew what was going to happen, even _he_ knew. It was clear in his eyes that he knew it was the end for him, yet he never flinched. Not once.

Hermione had lunged forward, intent on doing _something_ , but Harry and Ron held her back and muffled her panicked screams with their large hands over her mouth.

So the three of them had watched as Nagini tore open his throat.

They continued to hold her back as she struggled with all her adrenaline-fueled strength, only releasing her once Voldemort and Nagini had Apparated away. She burst into the room and immediately began assessing her memories of Potions lessons and healing books to determine the best way to help him. Not ten seconds later, Hermione had _Accio'd_ vials of Dittany, Blood-Replenishing Potion, and anti-venin from the depths of her magically expanded beaded bag. He gargled something unintelligible and clutched at her arm but she kept going, forcing vial after vial of potions down his ravaged throat as she poured the Dittany onto the gaping, jagged skin.

When his glassy, obsidian eyes had caught hers, she knew.

She was in love with him.

Severus Snape; her greasy, acerbic, Death Eater professor.

Head over fucking heels.

She had pushed harder then, rubbing Dittany into his neck with her left hand and casting every healing spell she had ever learned with her right. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck at the sheer amount of magic she was expending but it didn't matter. She would have given every last ounce of magic she had if it meant saving his life.

But it was too late and the anti-venin wasn't strong enough.

Eventually, his grip on her arm slackened and he turned his gaze to Harry.

 _"Look… at… me…"_

The silver memory strands slid from his eyes, his mouth, his nose as he looked at her best friend with desperation. Harry had snatched the empty vial from Hermione's hands and used it to capture the memories, never once taking his eyes from Snape's.

Then, he was gone.

Hermione remembered very little after that. She vaguely recalled a lot of screaming and begging and pleading, vaguely remembered clutching the front of his blood-soaked robes so tightly that her knuckles where white, vaguely recollected Harry and Ron forcibly dragging her from the Shack as she fought them with all her remaining strength.

Yes, she remember so little.

When they had finally watched his memories for the first time, Hermione was surprised to find that she was not jealous over the affection he had felt for Harry's mother. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had felt… _relieved_. Since he died, the guilt had been eating away at her like a flesh-eating bacteria, always reminding her that he never knew someone cared for him the way she did. Always reminding her that he had died thinking he was unloved and unwanted. But when she saw, when she _felt_ the strength of his relationship with Lily Evans-Potter in his memories, a tiny sliver of the guilt was assuaged.

Even if Lily never returned his romantic feelings, she had been his friend once and he had never forgotten.

The guilt eased just a little.

Now, nearly nine years later, the guilt was still there but it had a new friend to keep it company. The regret had crept in slowly, so slowly she hadn't even realized until it was far too late. Now, the guilt and regret she felt were like best friends and they never, not once, let her forget that they were there.

Even if it had been when he was dying, she should have told him how she felt.

But she didn't.

The regret was crushing.

Hermione forced herself to move away from the pensieve; she had already been down here far too long for her flimsy excuse to hold up. She may as well go back to her desk and try to get through some of the mountainous paperwork that was undoubtedly waiting for her.

She sighed again. Being an Unspeakable was not nearly as glamorous as everyone assumed it was.

x-x-x

She was almost to the lift when something glinted in the dim firelight and caught her eye. Sitting on a tarnished brass stand only a few feet from the gilded Ministry lift was a shimmering, opaque crystal ball not unlike the prophecies that resided on the floor above her. In fact, it looked exactly the same. Hermione knelt down, careful not to touch it. That was, after all, lesson one of being an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries— never touch something if you weren't a hundred percent sure of what it was and what it did. Quite a few of them had been killed or disappeared that way over the years from such foolishness.

The sphere, like all other crystal balls she had ever seen, was full of a soft gray smoke that twisted and danced under the glass. There was something… something dark moving inside the smoke. She leaned closer, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tried to make out the dark shapes. What _was_ that? It looked so familiar…

Her breath caught in her throat as the dark figure materialized inside the glass.

Severus Snape.

He was resplendent in his immaculately tailored onyx robes, his skin a glowing alabaster and his hair a long, silk sheet of ravens-wing black. No longer far too thin and bony, he was lithe and slender as he moved through the smoke. His eyes sparkled.

Had she ever seen his eyes sparkle like that? Her heart twisted at the glaring answer; _no_ , she hadn't. They'd never had a reason to.

What was this thing? Was this some sort of torture device, created to drive a person mad by showing them their deepest, most impossible desires? It reminded her of the Mirror of Erised, which now also resided on one of the floors of the Department of Mysteries…

A floor that she avoided with a quiet desperation, for if she ever saw him beside her, even in a mirror, she knew she would never leave again.

She watched him moving around inside of the glass sphere for far too long. This was some sort of trick, some sort of Dark curse meant to drive a person mad with longing. It was the only explanation that made sense. Why else would a random crystal ball show her the very thing, the very man, she desired above all things? No, she wouldn't fall victim to it; she knew better. She would walk away and perhaps suggest to one of her fellow Unspeakables that it was something that should be destroyed. Yes, yes that was the most sensible plan.

Hermione stood, straightening her hideous robes in preparation for returning to the top floor where their desks sat, when the image within the smoke changed. Severus was no longer alone, but instead he was holding someone in his long, slender arms. He was holding… no, no it couldn't be… was _that_ …?

She gasped sharply and grabbed the crystal ball with both hands, bringing it to her face.

…Was that _her_?

Inside the smoke, Severus tilted Hermione's chin up with a crook of his finger and lowered his head to press his lips to hers.

Hermione screwed her eyes shut, cradling the glass sphere to her heart.

"I would have made him happy," she whispered fiercely, tears burning her eyes behind the lids. "I would have done _anything_ for him to be happy."

The crystal ball warmed in her hands until it was almost scorching. Her eyes snapped open to see that the image was gone and the smoke was now a roiling crimson. It was too hot, burning her palms in its intensity, but when she tried to let go she found she couldn't. It was like there was a Permanent Sticking Charm on the glass.

The severity of what she had done hit her like a herd of stampeding hippogriffs and Hermione desperately tried to drop it. She never should have touched it! She knew she shouldn't, she _knew_ it was something malicious the moment it conjured his image but seeing her in his arms, even if it was only once, was too tempting to resist.

She was fucked and it was searing into her skin.

Hermione quickly scanned the crystal ball to see if there was something, anything written on it to try and determine what might happen to her. Just below her thumbs there was a tiny inscription etched into the glass.

 _HEA_

 _Happiness Ever After_

She tried to recall if she had ever heard of something like that before, if she had ever come across any reference of something similar, but the pain of the burning glass was slicing across her mind, rendering any and all thought almost completely useless. Hermione fell to the cool marble floor, whacking the ball desperately against it to try and dislodge it from her grip but it was no use. There was nothing more she could do but wait for whatever this artifact intended to do to her.

Tears of agony dripped from her eyes and blurred her vision. Had the pain not been so intense, she would have closed her eyes and missed the inscription change, but as it happens she could not close her eyes and therefore _did_ see the carved etching shift and change.

 _Happiness is only a kiss away…_

 _But beware the price you'll have to pay._

There was not time for Hermione to consider the implication of the words before she slipped into oblivion and the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't own Harry Potter or anything from that universe. Please thank J.K. Rowling for the magic.**

* * *

What on earth was she lying on? Merlin have mercy, whatever it was needed some serious padding. The sharp angles that felt suspiciously like body parts were digging into her the tender flesh of her back and she winced. It was _moving_ and poking her, repeatedly, in the same spots. If whatever the hell it was didn't stop, she would have some nasty bruises later.

At that thought, Hermione's mind came racing back to attention.

She was alive.

She was _alive_.

The crystal ball, the strange artifact that had shown her the deepest, most desperate desires of her heart, hadn't killed her after all.

Her eyes snapped open and she recognized her surroundings immediately.

What the hell…?

"Will you get the _fuck_ off of me!" Someone growled from beneath her.

Ah, so she was lying on a person.

Hermione rolled off of the bony body straight onto the dusty rugs of the Hogwarts library. She chanced a glance at her palms to find that they were whole and unmarred, not a burn mark in sight. She then noticed that her Ministry robes were gone, replaced by the simple black ones she wore to and from work instead. In her left pocket, she could feel the heavy weight of the crystal ball resting against her thigh.

Well, at least she still had it with her.

"Where the bloody fuck did you come from?"

Hermione's pulse raced. She would know that voice _anywhere_ , even if it did sound slightly…

She lifted her gaze to see a very young, very alive Severus Snape glaring down his aquiline nose at her. Her eyes widened and all rational, logical thought went straight out the window.

"Severus!" Hermione gasped as she threw her arms around his bony shoulders. "Holy shit, you're… you're _alive_! You're _here_!"

His body froze under her touch and his voice was like ice as he hissed, "Unhand me this instant."

Cursing herself for her overzealous reaction, Hermione let her arms fall away and she moved back so she could look at him properly, "Sorry, I just… I can't believe it's really you."

His elegant black eyebrow lifted just like she remembered, "You know me."

It wasn't a question but she found herself nodding anyway, "Of course I do."

He eyed her, up and down, with thinly-veiled contempt, "I've never met you before."

Again, not a question, "…It would seem not."

Those bottomless obsidian eyes narrowed, "Potter and Black put you up to this?"

She frowned in confusion for a moment before it finally dawned on her. The young Severus dressed in Slytherin robes, the Hogwarts library, the mention of James and Sirius…

Holy fucking Merlin, she'd gone back in time.

Or perhaps, the crystal ball had just caused her to go insane.

...Though she highly doubted it. That only left one possibility.

Hermione slumped back against the bookshelf behind her, running her hands over her face, "Severus… I know how this is going to sound but…" She looked up at him. "What year is it?"

He hesitated for a moment before he crossed his lanky arms over his chest, "1975."

She let her head fall back against the books, "I was afraid you were going to say something like that."

It was quiet for a long time before he said anything, "Whatever you're trying to pull, it won't work. So you can just run back to Potter and Bla—"

Hermione's head snapped up as she growled, "I forgot just how ridiculously paranoid you were."

"If you know me like you say, then surely you know my paranoia is justified."

She sighed, he was right of course, "Right. Sorry."

There was another moment of silence as they watched each other. He was eying her with suspicion, like she was a dangerous creature who would spring at any moment, but she just wanted to commit every angle of his face, of his body to memory. Time travel was even less predictable than magic was at the best of times, so she had no idea how much time she had with him. If this was the only time she would ever see him, alive, again, she wanted to remember it for the rest of her life. If this was the only time… she wanted to tell him exactly what she thought. That way, if she was somehow sent back home, perhaps he would remember the things she said; maybe he would remember it was _her_ when they eventually met again and maybe…

"You look so different," she said eventually, eliciting a look of surprise from him. "In your memories… well, it's obvious that you never really saw yourself clearly."

Severus' brow furrowed, "You've seen my memories?"

Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment at just _how_ many times she'd seen his memories, "Once or twice."

It was silent again.

"You're much more handsome than you remembered."

He snorted, rolling his eyes, "Now I know Potter and Black have something to do with this."

She ignored his comment, her eyes trained on his face as she spoke softly, "I've missed you so much."

Severus halted, his eyes catching hers with a look of disbelief on his face, "What?"

Tears threatened her and she rubbed her face quickly to dispel them. She took a few calming breaths before she felt steady enough again, "It has been a ridiculously long nine years without you barking at me."

He looked deep in concentration for a moment before he looked back up at her, "Let's say that, hypothetically, I believe that you're from… another time." The words sounded strangled even as he forced them out. "Does that mean…? Were we…?"

Hermione gave a rueful laugh, "No. Not even close."

"But you wanted to be."

Always so perceptive. She just sighed.

Severus shifted uncomfortably on the floor, "Why didn't I…? I mean, er, you're pretty enough and I…"

Hermione chuckled a little, "I'm not used to you being quite so eloquent."

He flushed and scowled.

"You were much older than me," she admitted quietly, taking mercy on him. "And I never got the chance to tell you that I…" She cleared her throat. "It never came up. There were always more… pressing matters at hand."

Severus tucked a lock of long, silky hair behind his ear, "Ah… I see," there was a tint of pink to his cheeks. "Then don't… don't you think I should know your name?"

"Hermione," she supplied. "Hermione Granger."

As quickly as he'd tucked his hair back, he shook it out again to hide his face a little, "So assuming I do, hypothetically, believe your admittedly ridiculous assertions… did you come back for _me_ , Hermione Granger?"

Hermione shook her head and reached into her pocket, dragging out the glass sphere for him to see, "It was an accident. I touched this by mistake."

"The… the Wishing Stone?" He recoiled from the item instantly, his eyes wide. "Where the fuck did you get _that_?"

She was puzzled by his reaction, "It isn't mine. I work in the Department of Mysteries. I'm an Unspeakable."

If possible, his eyes widened further, "And you just _touched_ it?! Are you mad?! Did you have a death wish?!"

She frowned, "I didn't know what it was. I just… I saw something inside of it and I…"

"Of course you saw something inside of it!" He shouted. "It's the fucking Wishing Stone! It showed you exactly what you wanted to see so you would grab it!"

Severus shoved the offending item back into her pocket only seconds before a much younger looking Madam Pince came around the stacks to give them a harsh _shush_.

As soon as she was gone, Severus rounded on her, his voice low, "You have to take that to the Headmaster. You have to tell him what happened so he can get you to the Ministry."

"But I don't understa—"

"I've only ever read about it," he said urgently, "and there wasn't much _to_ read other than the story we all already know, but there was enough that I know you need to get rid of it and get home as soon as you can. Before it ensnares you further."

"I've never heard a story about a Wishing Stone before; I don't know anything about it. My parents were muggles."

He ran a hand through his hair, "From what I remember, it all started with a Fae. You know, like a fairy?" When Hermione nodded, he continued. "It's said she had fallen in love with a wizard who had never so much as lain eyes on her, so she sold her soul to the Dark in exchange for one wish. She wasn't evil or malicious and she never intended to bind the wizard to her against his will, she only wanted the wish to provide her the opportunity to gain his love… but the wish was granted to her by the Dark and it wanted her to corrupt her soul so it could be claimed. So the wish twisted her heart's desire and bound their souls."

She felt dizzy, "But…"

Severus held up a hand to stop her, "The book said that the wizard didn't want her; he was already in love with someone else. But since their souls were bound by the wish, he no longer had a choice and was forced to be with the Fae against his will for eternity. Unable to stand the thought, he killed himself."

Her eyes widened.

"It's said that the Fae let her grief consume her until her heart was nothing more than a hardened, shiny glass stone that she ripped out of her chest. And when the Dark came to claim her soul, she refused to go and instead trapped her own soul within the stone," Severus hesitated. "The story says the stone wanted to be found, to be used by someone so she could finally atone for what happened to the man she loved. But… but she only had enough light left in her heart to grant half of a wish."

"Half a wish?" She repeated, turning the words over in her mind. She tried to remember what she'd been thinking, been wishing for when she held the crystal ball to her chest.

 _I would have made him happy…_

 _I would have done anything for him to be happy…_

The entire wish would be great, but honestly either half seemed just fine with her.

The globe warmed in her pocket, seemingly to try and get her attention, and she pulled it out again. The second inscription, the rhyme, appeared once more and she ran the pad of her finger over it thoughtfully. "What if I do what it says? What then?"

Her meaning seemed to register to him then, "What did you wish for?" He grabbed her wrist a little too tightly. "It clearly has to do with me. _What the fuck did you wish for_?"

Something seeped from the glass into her skin, washing over like a blanket of comfort. Perhaps it was the Fae's soul, reaching out to let her know she was prepared to help. Half a wish? That would be marvelous. Severus would be happy, which is the only thing she ever really wanted for the past nine years anyway. She knew how horrible his life was, she had seen it firsthand through his memories. She knew the horrors he would be forced to endure with nothing anchoring him, nothing making it all worth it. She knew just how bitter and jaded how would become right until the moment he was murdered by Nagini.

But he could be happy. She could give that to him. She didn't know what that would mean for her, but she could give him the one thing he always wanted, needed, _deserved_.

All it would take was a kiss.

Hermione looked up into his dark, panic-stricken eyes and she knew he knew. She could see it on his face. He knew she'd made a decision.

"Hermione, don't…!"

Her fingers gripped the Wishing Stone tighter and she pressed her lips gently against his.

The world around them fell away until, once again, there was nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling will always own Harry Potter, never any of us.**

 ***I would like to apologize in advance. I am so sorry.***

* * *

"Will you get your lazy, frizzy haired, Mudblood ass _up_ already?!"

Hermione felt like trolls were dancing around inside her skull and the person kicking the surprisingly comfortable bed she occupied was most certainly _not_ helping. Why did it feel like she had spent the night getting spectacularly pissed? She never drank anymore; she really couldn't seeing as being an Unspeakable often led to unpredictable hours and sudden assignments. In fact, the last time she had gotten properly good and drunk was right after the Final Battle, after it really hit her that Professor Snape was gone…

Her eyes snapped open.

 _Severus._

The last thing she remembered was him, the much younger him, telling her the story of the Wishing Stone and then, when the glass warmed and comforted her—aiding the decision she already intended to make—she pressed her lips against his.

Oh, shit.

She sat up in the bed, which was adorned top to bottom in Slytherin silver and green, and surveyed the girl who'd been kicking it just moments before. She looked vaguely familiar but Hermione couldn't quite place where she knew her from. Her hair was a long, rich blanket of deep black that was almost blue and her eyes were a cool forest green. Her nose reminded Hermione of the pug her parents had when she was young…

The girl crossed her arms indignantly over her ample chest, "About damn time. Are you planning to get up sometime today or should we tell Professor Slughorn that you're 'sick' again?"

What the hell? She was back in school? The Wishing Stone must have malfunctioned; she had never been in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat would have never made _that_ mistake.

"For once, Viola, will you just leave her alone?"

Hermione turned to see a second girl, yet another one that was frustratingly familiar, come striding from their shared bathroom, toweling her mahogany hair dry. She was almost hauntingly beautiful, like some kind of Victorian doll, with large hazel eyes and porcelain skin.

Merlin have mercy, where _was_ she?

The angry girl, Viola, huffed and snatched her robes from the end of her bed, "Pardon me for not wanting to get detention _again_ because of her."

"Hey," the Victorian doll snapped, gripping Viola's arm. "You know what it's like for her because of them. So please, do us all a favor and shut the fuck up. Even if it's just for today."

Viola was clearly scrambling for something witty to retort, but when she couldn't come up with anything, she simply grabbed her bag, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the room.

"You okay?" The beautiful girl asked quietly, sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed as she toweled her hair some more. "You know Viola's just upset because our last detention cut into her time with Thadeus Parkinson." She chuckled a little, nudging her foot. "Though I don't know why anyone would want to spend _more_ time with that lumbering oaf."

Ah, so Viola would most likely go on to marry Parkinson and become Pansy's mother.

Well, that explained why she was such a bitch.

Not wanting to give away just how confused she was with the entire situation, Hermione cleared her throat and gave a small smile, "I'm fine. Sometimes I just forget how bad she can be in the mornings."

The other girl laughed as she got up to put on her uniform, "Isn't that the understatement of the year. She did have a point though… _are_ you going to class today? I understand completely if you don't want to it's just—"

Hermione waved dismissively, "Don't worry about me. I'll be there."

"Good. I think it's… I think it's better that way, you know? To show them that you aren't afraid of them. Maybe if they think you aren't, they won't bother you as much."

She frowned as she began digging through the trunk at the end of her bed to find her clothes and, hopefully, a timetable with her class schedule on it. Who was she meant to be afraid of? Hermione had never been intimidated by anyone, not even Draco Malfoy and his goons at their worst. And really, how much worse than that could it get at Hogwarts? Whoever this girl was talking about, Hermione was not even remotely afraid.

"I'll be fine, I promise. I won't let them get to me."

The other girl, now fully dressed in her uniform, crouched down next to her and placed a warm hand on her shoulder, "Good. Don't let them take away from your OWL study time either. If the library isn't an option for some reason, just come back here and I'll come study with you, okay?"

OWLs. That meant they were fifth years and she was meant to be sixteen again. Hermione wanted to groan; she had already _done_ all of this! Was it really necessary to go through it all a second time? Gods help her.

"Thanks," she managed, realizing she still didn't know the girl's name. "I appreciate it."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before the other girl left for breakfast. Once Hermione found a uniform and a rather crinkled timetable in her trunk, she dressed herself and attempted to tame her once more bushy curls into submission before settling on a haphazard bun on top of her head. The silver nameplate on the beautiful girl's trunk caught her eye through the mirror.

 _Greengrass._

Hermione gave a small smile. If she ever made it back to her own time, it would be so nice to be able to tell Daphne and Astoria of the mother they never knew.

x-x-x

Hogwarts was exactly the same, not a single difference as far as she could tell. Had she really time-travelled? Was she really with people who were, for all intents and purposes, almost twenty years her senior back in her time? Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was almost like it was all a dream…

" _Impedimenta!_ "

Hermione went sprawling across the stone as the hex caught her back, her belongings all but exploding from her bag around her. When she looked up to see just whose balls she needed to hex so early in the morning, she came face to face with a once again very young, very handsome, very alive Sirius Black.

"A little clumsy today, are we Hermy?" He guffawed, his dark eyes dancing with glee.

She frowned. What was he…?

James Potter appeared on his left and Remus Lupin a little ways behind. "Sirius," Remus admonished half-heartedly. "Do you have to cause trouble already? We haven't even made it to breakfast yet."

"Yeah," James agreed, kneeling down to where she was sprawled and running his fingers up the bare skin of her leg with a dark gleam in his eye. "I'm sure there are much more _entertaining_ things we could be doing with our favorite little Slytherin."

Hermione felt the bile rising in her throat as she scurried backwards, "Touch me again and I'll—"

James laughed, "What? Hex me? Please, do. I'd love to watch you get expelled."

"Do you boys always have to be so immature?" A soft, feminine voice lilted from further down the hall.

They all turned but it was James who looked most embarrassed at being caught, "Hey, Lily. Thought you were having a lie-in through breakfast today?"

Lily Evans, looking exactly the way she did in Severus' memories, came striding forward, knocking James promptly aside, "Good thing I decided not to, then. Since apparently I can't leave you alone for five minutes without worrying you'll assault someone." She waved her wand to put all of Hermione's things back into her bag and then extended a hand to her. When Hermione didn't immediately take it, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to bite, you silly girl."

Hermione, although still a little hesitant, took her hand and hauled herself to her feet, brushing off her uniform and grabbing her bag from the floor, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the girl said dismissively before turning to leave. "And please ignore my idiot brother," she motioned towards James who had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "He's a moron at the best of times."

"I'm sorry," Hermione choked. "Did you… did you say your _brother_?"

Lily looked at her for a moment, puzzled, before turning to Sirius, "Did you hex her in the head?"

He shook his head, "No, I swear!"

She turned back to Hermione, "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? You seem confused."

Her head was spinning, her thoughts reeling. James and Lily were… siblings? But that meant that Lily wouldn't end up with him and have Harry. What else was different? Hermione surveyed the group before it for only a moment before she realized that Peter Pettigrew was not there.

"Where's Peter?" She asked through the rising panic. When no one answered her, she tried again. "Peter Pettigrew, where is he? Why isn't he with you?"

They all looked at each other, clearly confused.

Lily was the one who spoke up yet again, "Hermione, are you certain you're alright?"

"He's the fourth Marauder," Hermione said, her tone tinged with desperation. "He's the fourth one, isn't he?"

"Does anyone know who she's talking about?" Remus asked quietly.

They all shook their heads.

Hermione could feel the panic constricting her chest. No. No, no, no, no, no. Please, please let her be wrong. Please let her be mistaken. Please don't let it be who she thought it was.

"Sorry I'm late, I was just…"

She felt the world, whatever was left of it anyway, lurch and then promptly come crashing down around her. She would know that voice if she were in a coma—if she were in the midst of being _Crucio'd_ again—if she were dead.

Severus Snape's eyes flickered between the four Gryffindors before they settled on her and widened imperceptibly.

"Hey Sev," Sirius said congenially, slapping him on the back.

Remus nodded in greeting as well.

James lowered his voice to Severus, "Hey man, you ever heard of a Peter Pettigrew? Hermy here thinks he's a part of our merry little band of miscreants."

Hermione seemed to be the only one who noticed Severus' face go just a tad paler. He cleared his throat and recovered quickly, schooling his expression as he shrugged, "Never heard of him."

Apparently content with his answer, the other boys shrugged and began making their way towards the Great Hall as if the entire incident never happened. Lily was turning to follow when she noticed Severus wasn't moving, "Coming, Sev?"

His gazed flicked between Lily and Hermione for a split second, "Oh, yeah I'll be right there. I just realized I forgot my Arithmancy book. I'll be right back."

"You want me to go with you?" She said just a tad too breathlessly as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

He blushed furiously.

Hermione wanted to vomit.

"N-no, no," he stammered. "I'll just be a second. Go ahead with the guys. I'll meet you soon."

She flashed him a flirtatious smile before turning and taking off in the direction where the three others had disappeared.

"We need to talk," he hissed the moment they were alone. "Now."

x-x-x

He had dragged her into an empty classroom off to the right from the large central staircase in the Main Hall. He quickly warded and silenced the door before rounding on her, "What the _fuck_ did you do? What _is_ this?"

It was then that Hermione realized his uniform was adorned in Gryffindor red and gold. Holy sweet mother of Merlin.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I have no idea! I just… I just did what the stone told me to!"

"Please tell me you're joking," he gasped. "Please tell me you're not fucking serious!"

"I didn't know what else to do! It had already brought me back in time so I thought it couldn't hurt to—"

"It couldn't hurt? IT COULDN'T HURT?! You're an Unspeakable! You're supposed to know better than that!"

Hermione was flailing. There was no justifying why she did what the stone said, other than because she hoped it would give him what he needed. "I just… I thought it would be best for you and I didn't know what else to do!"

"Best for me?" He repeated, clearly confused. "Okay, wait. Back up. What exactly did the stone say? I want to hear it, word for word."

Her hands were trembling, "When I first grabbed it, it said: _'HEA- Happiness Ever After'_ so I thought it was some sort of artifact, like a prophecy. But then, it changed and it said: _'happiness is only a kiss away, but beware the price you'll have to pay'_."

He looked horrified, "And what did you wish for? What did you wish for that caused the stone to say that?"

Her voice was small as she spoke, her cinnamon eyes locked with his, "I just wanted you to be happy, Severus."

Severus stumbled back, knocking into desks and chairs until he managed to slump into one, "Holy fuck," he breathed, rubbing his hands over his face in disbelief. "Holy _fuck_."

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Hermione pleaded, her heart racing. "Please, you have to understand. I know how awful your life was, the horrible things you had to endure and I just… I just wanted to make it better somehow. You… you died! You died without ever having been happy and it was so fucking awful and I couldn't stand it. I wasn't able to save your life and I wasn't able to tell you how I felt before you died and I just…" She broke off, tears springing to her wild eyes. "I just wanted to help."

He still looked thoroughly shell-shocked as he gazed up at her, his obsidian eyes glossy and dreamlike, "Hermione… you _did_. You gave me everything I ever wanted."

At first, his admission elated her. It was a heady thing to know that she had been able to give him the happiness he had always craved but was never able to attain on his own. In her dizzying haze of ecstasy and jubilation, she stepped forward with the intention of kissing him. How could she not? She had been in love with him for most of her life and now he was right in front of her, whole and well and _happy_. His smile was enough to bring her to her knees.

Severus stood and came to her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. She felt herself melt into him and she clung to him just as tightly. Yes. _Yes_. This was what she always wanted. Her heart was trying to escape from her ribcage at being so close to him, at knowing that she would never have to feel the guilt or regret ever again. She made an accidental wish on a Wishing Stone, _the_ Wishing Stone, and it had brought her the thing she desired most.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers with yet another blinding, bone-melting smile on his sharp yet perfect face, "You really did it," he breathed onto her face and she nearly groaned at the intoxicating scent of him. "You gave me Lily."

Her heart shattered spectacularly and her grip on him slackened.

 _Beware the price you'll have to pay._

Beware, indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling is the only one who owns Harry Potter.**

* * *

 _"You gave me Lily."_

Hermione shut her eyes and let her head fall back against her trunk, cursing the sharp twisting of her heart as she remembered how his face looked when he said that. She had never, not in all the years she'd known him, seen him look that way. Never. Not even in his memories.

So that was what 'half a wish' really meant.

Damn her and her impulsiveness. Why had she picked up that crystal ball anyway?

Oh, that's right. Because it showed her the one thing—the ONLY thing—she ever really wanted and she was so desperate to see it, just once, that she latched onto it with embarrassingly lightening quick speed. Gods damn it all. Where was her common sense lately?

Probably somewhere back in her own time, lounging around with the tattered shreds of her dignity. The dignity that she had lost all those months ago on her 28th birthday.

x-x-x

 _"Happy birthday Hermioneeeeeee, happy birthday to youuuuu!" Her friends finished, all rather pissed and spectacularly off-key. It didn't really matter though; they loved her and even though they all had their own lives and their own families now, they still came together in their free time to plan a silly birthday party for her. After so many years, it was nice to feel somewhat normal again. She really was so lucky that they never gave up on her._

 _"Blow out the candles!" Luna chirped, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "Quick, before the snarpflumps get to them!"_

 _Before Hermione could even ask what in all the hells a snarpflump was, Harry clapped her on the back like she was one of his mates—which, upon retrospect, she decided she probably was. He had certainly never seen her anything else than one of the blokes anyway. She tried not to let that thought sting, not today. Not on her birthday._

 _"C'mon, 'Mione!" He slurred, mussing her hair. "You get one wish!"_

 _Ron chimed in then, craning his drunken, rather floppy neck to see from around Daphne who was curled on his lap, "Yeah, 'Mione! Maybe you can use this wish on finding a decent looking bloke who can put up with your nagging and your timetables."_

 _Harry gave a roaring laugh, "You certainly never could!"_

 _Ron burst into drunken chuckles right alongside him, "Course not! She had timetables for_ everything _, even snogging!"_

 _Daphne was far too drunk to take issue with that comment._

 _Everyone was laughing now, recounting their various run-ins with Hermione and her meticulous scheduling over the years. With each recollection that inevitably caused more uproarious laughter from the occupants of Harry and Draco's posh dining room, Hermione felt herself shrinking further and further into her chair. She didn't want to be reminded of her glaring flaws, the ones that she couldn't change no matter how hard she tried. She didn't want to be reminded of why no one could stand to date her for more than a few weeks before growing tired of her unintentionally controlling, almost cripplingly introverted nature. She didn't want to sit here while her drunk friends, who were all in healthy, fulfilling relationships laughed at her. She didn't want her friends to pressure her to wish for a nice, normal bloke who could simply tolerate her._

 _Not when she knew exactly who and what she wanted._

 _Hermione shoved away from the table and pushed through the throng of her drunken friends to reach the Floo. She should have known the feeling of normalcy wouldn't last; she needed to leave, to get away. They were all far too pissed to even attempt to stop her, thank all the Gods._

 _Save for one, of course._

 _She was just reaching for the Floo powder when Draco caught her arm in a gentle grip, "Hey, they don't mean it. They're all just completely pissed. They love you, Hermione. You know that, don't you?"_

 _Ah, Draco. Always the sober one, the level-headed one. Who would have thought?_

 _"It's fine, Draco," she said, clearing her throat halfway through. "_ I'm _fine."_

 _He didn't miss a beat, "You're not. You may be able to lie to the other dunderheads, but not to me. You should know that by now."_

 _She sighed, "I know, I know. Sorry, force of habit I guess."_

 _For once, he hesitated, "There_ is _someone, isn't there?"_

 _She didn't answer but that was confirmation enough._

 _He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, "Someone with a rather severe manner of dress and an even more severe expression, perhaps?"_

 _Her head snapped up and she stared at him in disbelief. How the hell did he know? No one, not even Harry knew about that._

 _As if he could read her thoughts, which he probably could considering who his godfather had been, Draco nudged her a little, "Besides the fact that I am not nearly as blind as the rest of them, I actually pay attention. Oh, and you may have mentioned it to me a few years ago when you were three sheets to the wind."_

 _Hermione groaned, "And you wonder why I don't get drunk anymore. Merlin, your memory is like a steel trap."_

 _He grinned, "One of my many talents, I'm afraid. Besides being filthy rich, of course."_

 _She actually chuckled at that, "Being rich is not a talent, Draco."_

 _"Tell that to my bank account."_

 _The crowd of their friends behind them were racketing up in volume as they began to play a muggle drinking game and slip further into inebriation than they already were._

 _"I need to get out of here," Hermione said finally, looking up at the aristocratic man in front of her. "They're only going to get worse and I really don't need to have my self-esteem battered any more tonight."_

 _Draco was watching her face carefully, seemingly at war with himself over something. Convinced that he was not going to say anything else, Hermione had just turned to grab the pot of Floo powder when he stayed her hand with his once more, "Hermione… my godfather…_ Severus _was not a pleasant man."_

 _She frowned, turning to him, "I'm aware, Draco. I knew him for seven years."_

 _"No, I mean…" He paused again. "I know that you feel guilty for not telling him how you felt. Don't look at me like that, Hermione; I can read you like a book and you know it. But listen… I know you feel guilty over it, I do. But you have to know that even if you had told him, it was far too late for it to have mattered."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"His life… the things he had been through jaded him and made him almost comically cynical. He honestly believed that anything good that came into his life was a trick, a test of some sort. He was so used to being disappointed that he never expected it to be different."_

 _Tears welled in her eyes, "Draco, please stop…"_

 _"No, listen to me," he snapped, which instantly caught her attention as he rarely lost his temper these days, especially with her. "If you had told him how you felt back then, it would not have mattered. He wouldn't have believed you. Life had been far too unkind to him for that to have been possible."_

 _"Why does any of this matter?" She asked, searching his steely gray eyes. "Is this supposed to make me feel less guilty? Because you're doing a pretty shit job if so."_

 _He gave her an exasperated chuckle, "Gods, Hermione. For the Brightest Witch of our Generation, you can certainly be quite obtuse when you want to be."_

 _She waited, curious now._

 _Draco sighed, "I probably I shouldn't tell you this but…" He looked up at her. "I just hate to see you like this, Hermione. You deserve so much better."_

 _She and Draco had grown close over the last nine years but he was rarely so serious; after that first year, he most often tried to keep things light with her in case she was having one of her many bad days, "Draco, what on earth are you talking about?"_

" _There might be an item in the Department of Mysteries, on the ground floor, that could help you see him again. I've been trying to get my hands on it for the last few months so I could see my father again but I haven't had any luck. No matter how much I pay people, no one can seem to find it."_

 _Part of her wanted to berate him for bribing Unspeakables in an attempt to procure an item from the Department of Mysteries, while the other part of her wanted to know the size, shape, weight, and dimensions of said item so she could promptly go and find it for herself._

 _She was torn._

" _Draco…" Hermione said slowly. "Are you telling me that there is something in the Department of Mysteries that can bring people back from the dead?"_

 _He shook his regal blond head, "No. I'm telling you that there is something in the Department of Mysteries that can take you back in time if you ask it to."_

 _Her eyes widened, "B-back in time?" She stammered. "How far back?"_

" _As far as you need to go."_

 _Completely different from a Time-Turner, then. Sweet Merlin._

 _She chewed her lip for a moment, "You said if I had told him back when he was alive that he wouldn't have believed me and that it wouldn't have made a difference."_

 _He lifted her chin so she was looking directly at him, "Then you would need to go further back, wouldn't you?"_

" _How far back?"_

 _He considered this for a moment but did not break eye contact, "Before it all went wrong."_

 _Hermione had seen Severus' memories enough times to know exactly what Draco was referring to._

" _1975?"_

" _1975."_

x-x-x

Hermione sat up, jolted back to reality by the realization of what she had just remembered. Draco _knew_. He knew of the Wishing Stone—that was the item he'd be trying to get his hands on for months and paying obscene amounts of money to find. How had none of the other Unspeakables found it? It was right by the lift, clear as day. If they knew what they were looking for, if they knew what it looked like, how had so many of them missed it? She ran her fingers over the smooth, spherical glass as she sat on the floor at the foot of her bed. From the story Severus told her, it seemed as though the Wishing Stone could only be used once. Perhaps… perhaps it hadn't wanted to be found by them for Draco's use.

Perhaps it had been waiting for _her_.

She thought back to what Draco had told her. He'd said that she needed to go back to the time before his life had taken the wrong turn, back to 1975, if she was going to have any chance of him understanding.

And like magic, the Wishing Stone had brought her to 1975 and thrown her directly into Severus Snape's lap.

What a fucking world.

Hermione's head spun. What was she supposed to do now? According to legend, the Wishing Stone granted half a wish and from what was happening now, it seemed like a pretty accurate assessment. How was she supposed to get him to understand the gravity of her feelings for him when he was happy with the way things were now?

That was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? The half of the wish that had been granted was based off her declaring that she would do _anything_ to make him happy. She had done that. He was perfectly content with the way things were.

Dare she try and interfere with that?

Hermione was still contemplating that question long after the sun had set and her fellow dorm mates had gone to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: As much as I wish I owned Harry Potter, it is not meant to be. J.K. Rowling owns it all.**

 ***Please be warned of adult content in this chapter.***

* * *

Sometime during the night, she came to a decision.

The Wishing Stone had, technically speaking, granted what she'd wished for. She never specified the way in which she could make Severus happy and as such, the stone had taken liberties with her meaning, allowing him a space in Gryffindor to have the friends, the acceptance, and the girl he had always secretly coveted. In exchange, Hermione had taken his place in Slytherin.

It was not preferable, but it was understandable.

So she would let it be.

Now the only question that remained was: would this change be permanent or temporary?

She still had no idea how long it would be until she was sent back… if she was ever sent back at all. Which meant that she needed to make preparations for either scenario. If she was trapped here… well, then she would be ready to take Severus' place as a part of Voldemort's ranks herself and do her best to live up to what he had done for them all. But if not, then she needed to tell someone the things she knew.

Hermione twirled her wand between her fingers, Viola's obnoxious snoring the only sound that broke through the silence in their dorm.

It was time to see the Headmaster.

x-x-x

Hermione cursed herself for not throwing an additional jumper on over the pajamas that were under her robes. She had honestly forgotten just how miserably cold it was at Hogwarts during the wee hours of the morning. If there was one thing she didn't miss about being in school, it was the fact that it was located on the marshy moors of Scotland.

It turns out that her previous assumptions were, thankfully, correct; whichever professor had been on rounds had finished long before two am and now the halls were blissfully empty. Had they not been, she could have easily conjured a Disillusionment charm over herself but she had never quite gotten used to the cold, slimy feeling of the spell sliding over her skin and turning her invisible so she tried to avoid casting it whenever possible.

Hermione stopped just in front of the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office, "I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore."

The ugly stone statue eyed her, "You don't belong here."

She rolled her eyes, "I assure you, this is important enough to be out of bed for."

"That is not what I meant."

She started. Could the gargoyle really…?

The statue's carved eyes blinked, "You've paid quite a price to come here. Are you certain it was worth it?"

Her pulse raced, "What do you mean?"

"The life you knew, the one you came from, is gone now," he said without preamble. "Whatever you came here for, was it worth losing that?"

Hermione thought back to Draco openly weeping at his father's funeral where there had been no body to bury… to the entire Weasley family being crippled for years over the loss of Fred… to Harry's abusive upbringing due to his parent's murder… to all the Order members who were killed during the war… to her own torture and mutilation at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange… to the horrors that Severus had to endure for his entire 38 years of life, many of which to atone for what happened to Lily...

Her answer was concise, "Yes."

The gargoyle seemed to almost grin at that, "Then come back tomorrow evening and I will step aside. The Headmaster should have returned by then."

Hermione placed a hand on the cool stone of the gargoyle's claw before turning to go back the way she came.

x-x-x

She had made it to the second floor corridor before she heard anyone else.

Hermione cringed but draped a quick Disillusionment charm over herself and a _Muffliato_ over her feet before creeping down further down the hall to where the slightly muffled noises were coming from. It was pitch dark with only the light of the moon illuminating the hall in various slats from the high windows, so Hermione waved her wand and cast a non-verbal _Homenum Revelio_.

Her wand quivered in the air above her hand for a moment before swinging slightly to the northwest, pointing her to a small alcove beside an abandoned classroom. She sidled along the wall until she reached the alcove.

And froze at what she saw.

Lily Evans was leaning against the wall, her oxford shirt completely unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal a long, smooth expanse of skin only broken by the bright scarlet of her bra. Her head was thrown back into the stone as Sirius Black bunched her skirt around her waist and ran his hands along her thighs and over the front of her knickers. The girl groaned as he shoved one hand into her knickers and pulled one of the cups of her bra down with the other, laving her nipple with his tongue. Lily scrabbled with Sirius' belt, seemingly too consumed by lust to realize just how loud it was when she threw it aside and the buckle clanged against the cold stone floor. Sirius growled and nipped at her shoulder with his teeth, nudging her shirt to fall down her arms.

"Sirius," Lily gasped, her grip on his shoulders tightening. "Sirius…"

Sirius undid his trousers and Lily palmed him through his dark blue pants. He hissed.

Hermione was so horrified that her concentration faltered and her Disillusionment charm melted away faster than ice cream under the summer sun.

Lily caught the movement and turned her head to see Hermione watching them.

"Looks like we have an admirer," she whispered to Sirius, running her tongue over the shell of his ear.

Sirius growled at her ministrations but slowly tilted his head to confirm what she said. When he caught sight of Hermione, he grinned, pinning Lily harder to the wall, "Should we invite her to join us?"

Lily let out a sharp breath as Sirius tugged her knickers down her legs, never breaking eye contact with Hermione, "Most definitely. _Would_ you care to join us, Hermione? We could always use a third, even if it is a Slytherin."

"I…" She stammered, stumbling back. "I thought you and Severus…"

The half-naked girl smirked as Sirius wound her legs around his waist and shoved into her with a single, sharp thrust, "What he doesn't know… _ahhhh_ …" She groaned, throwing her head back. "…won't hurt him… _unghhhhh_ …"

How could this be happening? How had the Wishing Stone fucked things up so spectacularly? Lily and James were siblings now, so she was supposed to be with Severus instead. That was what he always wanted. But for some reason, Lily and Sirius were rutting like animals at two in the morning in the second floor corridor. All the while, the disgusting cow knew how Severus felt about her!

And clearly, Lily had no intention of telling Severus about Sirius either.

Hermione felt nauseous.

As she sprinted back to the dungeons, only one thing was certain.

She had to tell him, even if it broke his heart.

x-x-x

As luck would have it, Hermione managed to catch Severus alone outside of the Great Hall directly before breakfast later that morning.

"Hey Severus, do you have a minute?"

He stopped, eying the Marauders and Lily who were already at the Gryffindor table, "I suppose. What is it?"

Hermione adjusted the bag on her shoulder, "I was wondering if you'd come out to the Black Lake with me after lunch? I thought…" She hesitated. Gods, she hated lying to him. "I thought we might look at the stone to see if we could figure a way for me to get back to my own time. You know more about the story than I do, after all."

Severus frowned, his dark, severe eyebrows pulling down and shadowing his deep-set obsidian eyes, "I'm supposed to help Lily with her Potions homework this afternoon."

Her thoughts were racing; she needed to tell him before they spent too much time in this alternate universe. It would only get worse the longer she waited. "Only a half hour then? I don't expect us to come up with a solution today, but it would be nice to have some kind of direction at least. And since…" It took all her years of experience as an Unspeakable to successfully school her expression into a neutral one. "Since the stone worked, I should probably try to get home."

Something flashed across his eyes before he managed to tuck it way. Ah, yes. There was the cold Occlumency shield she was so familiar with.

"Severus?"

He cleared his throat, his face impassive now, "I didn't expect you to want to leave so quickly. From what you said about the future, I thought—"

"You thought I'd want to stick around to see you with someone else?" She said a little more harshly than she intended, fire flaring in her chest. "I may care about you Severus, but I'm not a masochist."

His shields failed then and he looked almost wounded, "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate everything you've done for me, Hermione. I do. I really, really do. Without you—"

She was letting this get too out of hand. She needed to get this back on track before his soft, endearing gaze completely drained her of the will to, inevitably, break his heart with the truth. Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "If you appreciate it, then meet me at the Black Lake and help me find a way home."

She did not wait for a reply as she made her way to the Slytherin table.

x-x-x

Hermione was sitting against the large, willowy tree on the bank of the Black Lake with a quill and a piece of parchment, hastily noting down every pertinent detail she could remember about the war. She'd already listed and described everything she knew about the horcruxes in excruciating detail and was now listing how, where, and when everyone she could remember had died. If she was going to give Dumbledore information, she was going to give him _all_ of it.

Just in case.

She was so deeply engrossed in recalling the details of the war that she didn't even notice when he sat down next to her.

"Hey," he said softly.

She started a little, tearing the tip of the quill through the parchment, and he chuckled. The sound, so warm and so unlike him, caused a lovely fluttering in her stomach.

"Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," she said, shoving her materials back into her bag. "Don't worry about it."

"So," he began, leaning back on his arms and titling his face to the mildly warm spring sun, "any ideas?"

Hermione took a few fortifying breaths before turning to him, "Actually Severus, that isn't why I asked you to meet me here."

He lifted his head, eyebrows furrowing, "Then what—"

"Are you and Lily together?" She interrupted, deciding the direct approach was probably best. "I know this is only our second day here but do you get the impression that you're a couple?"

Severus flushed a little, the breeze ruffling his long, black hair around his shoulders, "I… I _think_ so. It certainly seems that way."

Hermione closed her eyes in resignation for a moment. Part of her had honestly been hoping that they weren't because then she wouldn't have to tell him what she saw. But she knew she had to now. "Severus..." She forced herself to look at him. "If that's true, then she's not being faithful to you."

His expression would undoubtedly haunt her for the rest of her days. He looked… there wasn't even a word for it. She knew how much he valued loyalty above all else when he was older, but judging by the look on his face he felt the same way now, "What are you talking about?"

"I caught her with Sirius last night," the words were like acid on her tongue. The guilt that she carried around like an extra appendage for the last nine years came roaring back to life and instantly began gnawing at her like it was necrotic. "I was on my way back from Dumbledore's office when I saw them."

His heartbroken expression quickly shifted to one of anger and indignation, "You're lying."

"Severus, I swear to you I wouldn't—"

"You're lying!" He shouted, his face twisted in a grimace of fury. "You're lying so that I'll want _you_ instead!"

She recoiled as if he had slapped her.

Severus loomed over her, his tone sharp and icy, "Whoever you were in love with, whoever it is you came back here for, it isn't me. Do you hear me? _I'm not him!_ You keep expecting me to be the person you knew and I'm not. I don't know you!"

Hermione swallowed, tears springing to her eyes at his harsh words, "Severus…"

He continued as if she hadn't spoken, "My entire life, I have been in love with Lily and now that I actually have her, thanks to you fucking around with a Wishing Stone I might add, you're trying to ruin it. If you actually gave a shit about my happiness like you pretend to, you wouldn't be doing this. You wouldn't be trying to take her away from me. Why can't you just fucking go back to whenever it is you came from?"

His words sliced right through her as if Dolohov was once again casting his hex at her in the Department of Mysteries all those years ago. She knew he would be upset but she hadn't been prepared for him lashing out at her like this. In retrospect, she should have known. After all, Professor Snape had done that often. His young age and relative innocence had lulled her into a false sense of security and she had come to the Black Lake woefully unprepared. Hermione was never one to be unprepared. Her entire life she had done her best to be _over_ prepared in every situation, including when she, Harry, and Ron had gone on the run during their final year at Hogwarts. But the past nine years had changed her, the repeated trips into Severus' gut-wrenching memories had changed her, and the overprotectiveness that had been born from it all was making her sloppy now. The Severus in front of her may be twenty-some years younger than the Professor Snape she had known, but the fierce desire to protect him was not contingent upon on his age or how he looked.

No matter what year it was, no matter if he knew her or not, he was still Professor Snape.

And as long as Hermione was around, she would do what she could to protect him.

"Take out your wand," she said softly, cinnamon eyes trained on his.

He halted, "What?"

"Take out your wand," she repeated. "I'll prove it to you."

Severus pulled his wand from the folds of his robes.

"Put it to my temple."

His eyes widened.

"Just do it."

He complied, gently pressing the tip of his wand to her temple.

Hermione took a moment to organize her thoughts before looking back up at him, "Use Legilimency. You have my permission."

"I don't know how," he snapped, his wand faltering.

"Just say _Legilimens_. I've had enough experience with it that I can handle the rest."

Severus was clearly still angry when he snarled, " _Legilimens!_ " He ripped rather unceremoniously into her mind and she winced. She knew he didn't do it on purpose, as he was completely inexperienced and practically vibrating with the force of his anger, but she would have one hell of a migraine when this was over.

Once Hermione felt him open his eyes inside her mind, she knew it was time.

At first, she only intended to show him what she'd witnessed between Lily and Sirius but then she realized that if she was somehow sent back to her own time, he would need to know what the future could possibly hold for him and how to combat it.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

She took him all the way back to the first time she saw him, when she was eleven.


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling is the only one who owns Harry Potter. I'm just playing around.**

 ***I just want to thank you all for your love and support of this story. This one has been a serious struggle for me so far, but your constant support has kept me going when I wanted to abandon it back in chapter 2 as a lost cause. Without you guys, I would have given in to the writer's block so thank you. Much love to you all.***

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She could feel the almost nauseating roil of his warring emotions as he watched the memory of Hermione catching Sirius and Lily in the alcove on the second floor. Her mind let out an involuntary pulse of guilt at what she had discovered and she didn't miss the look of surprise on Severus' face as he felt it too. As he watched her memory-self retreating from the scene as if the hounds of Hell were on her heels, Hermione readied herself to break the mental connection.

But Severus wasn't done.

As she always suspected, Severus was naturally gifted at Legilimency and now that she had allowed him into her mind and shown him how to navigate memories using the spell, Severus began to dig.

 _Panic. Terror. Fear. Anxiety. Humiliation._

 _Out, out, out._

 _Get him out. Get him out._

Each emotion slammed into him like a crashing wave, so strong that the very force of their potency threatened to forcibly eject him from her mind. But he was a natural so he just pushed harder.

What was he looking for? She had shown him everything pertinent— everything from the time she met him at eleven years old to the day he died in the Shrieking Shack at the fangs of Nagini. She had shown him everything he could possibly need to know in the event that she was somehow sent back to her own time.

So why wasn't he allowing her to break the connection?

He had always been more powerful than her; her magic, while strong in its own way, had never been able to hold a candle to his. Magic shaped him, molded him. It was in his blood, which as his fellow Death Eaters would never fail to remind her, was significantly less muddy than her own.

 _What are you looking for?_ She asked him inside her mind. _I'd show you anything you wanted if you only—_

When he stopped at one very particular string of memories, her heart sank. Oh, sweet Merlin. Not those. She would have shown him anything but _those_.

But it was too late.

Sixteen year old Severus Snape stood, stoic and unmoving, inside the memory of his own funeral. One by one, the remaining Order members delivered short eulogies in remembrance of the dour Potions Master. Even some of her friends—Luna, Neville, Draco, Harry—went up and said a few words about him. When Harry returned to his seat beside her, allowing Kingsley Shacklebolt to say his piece, he nudged her shoulder softly.

"You should say something," he whispered. "You were… you were always right about him. You always knew he was good."

Hermione didn't respond. She couldn't.

The grief was so heavy, so thick that wound around her neck like a noose. She was being asphyxiated by it, drowning in it, suffocating on it.

The emotions associated with the memory were just as potent as the day they manifested. _Failed. Failed him. He's dead. Should have tried harder. He deserved better. Never told him. Loved him. Failed; failed; failed; failed…_

She remained in her chair, staring at the open casket where he lay, long after everyone else had gone.

The memory shifted.

Hermione was in her bed, knees pulled into her chest, the blackout curtains drawn tight across the windows. Her hair was a tangled rat's nest, her clothes rumpled and slovenly as they hung off her far too thin frame. There were deep shadows under her eyes. She wrapped her arms tight around her middle in a pathetic attempt to hold herself together.

Not that it mattered; it always felt like she was falling apart anyway.

Draco sat gingerly next to her, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes and placing a warm hand on her shoulder, "Have you eaten?" He asked gently.

She did not respond.

He watched her in silence for a moment before he disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a steaming mug of soup. "You have to eat something," he held the mug out towards her. "You're losing too much weight."

She opened her mouth to respond but a torrent of soul-crushing guilt washed over her and she burst into tears instead.

Draco set the mug aside and pulled her into a tight embrace, "I know," he said, his own voice thick with emotion. "I know."

"I failed him," she wailed, gripping his immaculately tailored shirt tight between her fingers. "I had the chance to save his life and I _fucking failed him_."

"We all did, Hermione," he whispered, rocking her slightly. "We all failed him. But killing yourself won't bring him back."

Hermione sobbed harder.

"If he saw you like this, you know he'd just sneer and tell you to grow the fuck up, right?"

Somehow, despite the fact that it felt like her heart was being torn from her chest and shredded by shards of broken glass, she managed to laugh. Draco was absolutely right.

"That is exactly what he'd say," Hermione agreed, wiping her eyes. "And then he'd call me 'insufferable' and take fifty points from Gryffindor for theatrics."

He chuckled softly, handing her the mug of soup that she now accepted.

She sipped the warm liquid slowly, her stomach grateful to finally have something in it. She was still resting against Draco's shoulder, comforted by his brotherly presence.

"I worry about you, you know. We all do," he said after an age.

She nodded, "I know."

It was quite for another moment, "Hermione?"

"Hmmm?"

"I…" Draco cleared his throat. "I understand. I miss him, too."

The memory shifted.

Harry eyed her with a large amount of barely concealed surprise, "The Department of Mysteries? But… you hate the Ministry, 'Mione. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Hermione knew that all manner of treasures were held in those warded vaults, but one item in particular—a tiny vial that she was not even sure would be there—had led her to accept the job. She had been wallowing in grief for months now and if she didn't do something about it, it would consume her again until she was nothing more than a hollow shell, until she regressed right back to where she was after his funeral. If she didn't do _something_ , she'd be right back in her bed, not eating, sleeping, or bathing for days at a time because the weight of it all was too much.

No, this was the right decision.

Hermione forced herself to smile at her oldest friend, "I am absolutely certain, Harry. Besides, we'll be able to see each other much more now."

He looked relieved at that and Hermione knew it was because he and Draco were still keeping a close eye on her, just in case she slipped back into the quicksand of her depression again. Harry pulled her into a warm embrace, but he didn't say anything.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like things just might turn out okay.

The memory shifted.

"Granger!" A portly, graying wizard with a ridiculous handlebar mustache barked.

Her head snapped up from the pile of paperwork she was wading through. Merlin have mercy, only a week into the job and she was already buried in paperwork, "Yes, sir? What is it?"

He tossed something to her, a tiny vial full of shimmering silver strands, and waved away her paperwork with his wand, "I need you to take this to the ground vault. Secure it with the other memories; we definitely don't want to risk _this_ one getting out."

She frowned, turning over the unmarked vial in her palm, "Whose memories are they, sir?"

"Severus Snape," he said, twisting the end of his mustache between his stubby fingers. "Wizengamot is finally finished with his trial and prepared to grant him a posthumous Order of Merlin, First Class for his service during the war. They don't need these anymore."

Hermione's throat suddenly felt dry, as if she had been in a sandstorm with her mouth open, "S-Severus Snape?"

He nodded, "Too much sensitive information in there. Can't risk exposing that much information about Voldemort and the Order to the public. You know, just in case."

"Right. Just in case," she repeated, dazed.

When she didn't move, the older wizard frowned, "Did someone cast a Permanent Sticking Charm on your chair, Granger?"

"Right, right," she said breathlessly, practically jumping from her chair and darting towards the lift. "I'll just… I'll just take these down then."

As the lift descended into the bowels of the department's artifact vaults, Hermione's heart raced. The vial felt heavy and warm in her palm, and her breathing hitched at the knowledge that soon she would see his face again.

She didn't even wait until the gilded lift doors slid all the way open before sprinting across the overflowing vault to the very back left corner where Dumbledore's stone-carved pensieve sat. Hermione ripped the cork from the vial with her teeth, poured out the memories, and dove in.

When she resurfaced again half an hour later, she slumped to her knees and wept.

The memory shifted.

It was her 25th birthday and, thankfully, she'd had to work. Her friends, Merlin bless their hearts, would not be able to corral her into a silly party where she would have to pretend to be happy. Thank the Gods for small favors.

Hermione came tumbling through her Floo, never able to quite adjust to the odd form of transport, only to be met with the gleaming gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, Draco," she said, spelling the soot from her robes. "Everything okay?"

He crossed his long, slender legs at the ankle, observing his cuticles and looking very much like the aristocrat he was, "Everything was fine until I discovered that you had taken an extra shift at the Ministry in order to avoid celebrating your birthday."

She froze, eyes wide, "Please tell me you don't have everyone hiding in various locales around my flat."

He shook his head, lifting his nose into the air and sniffing disdainfully, "Of course not. How _gauche_. I will have you know that I am much more cultured than my adorable, though admittedly uncouth boyfriend."

Hermione couldn't help the soft smile that came at the thought of her two best friends together. Their relationship was something she envied fiercely. She fell into the armchair beside the couch where he sat, "My apologies then. I didn't mean to knock your fragile ego. If you aren't here to torture me, then why _are_ you here?"

Draco snapped his fingers and an ungodly expense-looking bottle of Ogden's finest appeared in his palm, "I came to celebrate your birthday, you daft ninny. Why else?"

She frowned, "Draco, you know I can't drink. What if I get called into work? I can't show up pissed."

He placed the bottle on the table, affixing his face with a look of mock-surprise, "Oh, my! That's right, you're an Unspeakable aren't you? How silly of me to forget. Well, I suppose it's a good thing I brought these then," with a wave of his wand, four deep crimson potions _tinked_ against the glass of the coffee table. "I have been assured that these Sober-Up's are potent enough to make you stone cold sober in 30 seconds even if you were to drink this entire bottle by yourself."

She hesitated for a moment, "I don't know…"

Draco leaned forward, grabbing the bottle of firewhiskey and handing it to her, his voice soft, "Severus didn't have a will, so when the Ministry went through his things… well, I was technically his next-of-kin as his godson, so I was allowed to choose certain things to take. I found this in his chambers at Hogwarts. It's already been opened so he must have had some of it, but I thought we could—"

Hermione popped off the top of the bottle and took a long swig, savoring the feel of the cool glass on her lips and the fire of the alcohol as it scorched her tongue and throat. She swallowed, handing the bottle back to him, "Let's get pissed. In his memory."

The memory, though still the same one, shifted slightly.

Hermione was sprawled across the carpet in front of the hearth, her face flushed from both the alcohol and her proximity to the roaring fire. Draco was draped haphazardly across her chintz sofa, his typically perfect white-blond coif mussed and deflated across his forehead. They were both spectacularly drunk.

"Tell me somefin, 'Mione," Draco slurred, his head lolling to the side so he could blearily look at her.

"Wassup?" She slurred right back, downing another swig of firewhiskey.

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco drink of the vials of Sober-Up potion before turning back to her but she was far too pissed to care.

"Hermione," he repeated, perfectly clear now, "why do you feel so guilty over what happened to Severus? I know you always felt like you should have been able to save him but… it feels like more than that."

Hermione closed her eyes and let the numbing effect of the firewhiskey calm the raging guilt and depression that was always constantly looming in the back of her mind, "Mmmm… Sev'rus was…" She took another drink. "He was it."

She let her head fall boneless to the side and saw that he was frowning down at her in confusion, "He was 'it'? What does that mean?"

"He was ev'rything," Hermione garbled waving her floppy hands in an all-encompassing motion. "He was it f'r me. I woulda married the snarky git." She chuckled drunkenly. "Can you 'magine? 'Hi 'veryone, this is m'husband, Sev'rus.' Gods, the prophet woulda lost their shit."

His eyes widened, "You were in love with him."

Hermione shook her head, or tried to, but it just kind of lolled back and forth, "Nuh-uh. Not 'was', Draco. Never 'was'. Always _will_ be."

Draco scrubbed his hands across his face, "Well that certainly explains a lot."

Just then, the face of the old wizard with the handlebar mustache appeared in her Floo, "Granger!" He barked. "Send your boy-toy home and get your lazy ass over here. We got word on that _situation_ and we move out in five."

As soon as his face disappeared, Draco shoved a Sober-Up potion between her lips and forced it down her throat. Just as he said, 30 seconds later she was stone cold sober… though with a massive migraine.

"Oh fuck me," she groaned, cradling her head. "Why do I ever let you convince me to do anything, Draco Malfoy?"

He chuckled softly, handing her a Headache potion that she drank greedily, almost licking the vial for whatever remained, "Because you love me, obviously. And I undoubtedly _adore_ you."

Hermione shoved his shoulder as she threw on her maroon Ministry robes and cast a quick glamour over her face so she didn't look positively hungover, which she was, "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the hippogriffs stampeding around inside my skull."

Draco pushed her towards the fireplace, still smiling, "Go. I'll clean up here."

Just as Hermione was preparing to throw the handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, Draco stayed her with a hand on her shoulder, his voice hesitant, "Hermione?"

She turned.

He faltered before giving her another one of his dazzling Malfoy smiles, "Never mind. Be careful out there, okay? I wouldn't want to have to channel my father and go all Death Eater on someone if you got hurt."  
She rolled her eyes, "Don't be silly, Draco. I'll be fine."

The last thing that registered in her memory was Draco's soft voice breaking through the flames of the Floo, "He would have been a good husband."

The memory shifted.

She had just finished watching his memories for the thousandth time and was trudging back to the lift when she saw the odd crystal ball glinting in the firelight.

Her heart lept when he appeared in the swirling smoke, looking at her as if she was a beacon of light in the darkness…

x-x-x

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Hermione's wand was ripped from her grasp just as their mental connection was, finally, broken. She only had a few seconds to register the soft, familiar look in Severus' obsidian eyes before the Marauders were upon them.

So, he finally knew the truth. The _whole_ truth.

"What do we have here?" James said with his wand trained on her, his face lighting up when he caught sight of Severus' wand at her temple. "Having all the fun without us, Sev?"

Lily did not seem to think it was quite as amusing. She came to his side and wrapped an arm around his possessively, her eyes narrowed at Hermione who was still on her knees, "Yes Sev, what _are_ you doing?"

Severus didn't even seem to register Lily's presence. He was still staring directly into Hermione's eyes.

Like he'd been doing it all his life, he inserted himself right back into her mind, no doubt with a non-verbal _Legilimens_. Show-off.

 _Even after everything I did to you and your friends, after all the things I did as a Death Eater, you still…_ _you still loved me._

She was not skilled enough at Legilimency to reply mentally so she simply nodded once.

He sounded amazed. _Why? Why would you ever waste something like that on me?_

Hermione gave a barely perceptible shrug.

Lily snapped, her head whipping back and forth between them. "Why are you staring at her like that?"

Neither of them answered and neither of them looked away.

Lily raised her wand to Hermione's face, snarling, " _Impedimenta!_ "

Hermione felt her muscles lock in place, rendering her all but paralyzed. Severus finally seemed to come back, "What are you doing?!"

Sirius came around, clapping him on the back, "Don't be so selfish, Sev. We want to play with Hermy too!"

"Don't touch me," Severus growled at Sirius, then turning to Lily. "Either of you."

Lily's eyes widened, "B-but…" Her gaze flickered to Hermione, then Sirius, then back to Severus. "What did she tell you?" She demanded, stamping her foot. "What did she say? Whatever it is, it's a lie. Right, Sirius?"

He immediately grasped her meaning and gave an easy smile, "Of course it's a lie. She's a Slytherin, it's what she _does_." Sirius crouched in front of Hermione. "Maybe it's time to teach our little friend here what happens when she lies."

Severus lurched forward but in his distraction, Lily snatched his wand from his hand and tossed it to Remus. James then grabbed his arms, restraining him from reaching Sirius or Hermione.

Sirius raised his wand, pressing it between her lips and into her mouth as he grinned wickedly, " _Scourgify._ "

Pink, soapy bubbles came bursting from her lips and running down her chin as she choked and gagged. Severus was roaring swears and threats from behind them but James was much larger and stronger than he was. Lily crossed her arms over her chest and smirked as Hermione struggled to breathe. Remus was the only who looked even remotely sheepish as he held Severus' wand off to the side.

Hermione narrowed her eyes through the tears that stung them and cast the strongest, non-verbal _Sectumsempra_ she could manage and though it was weakened by her current paralyzed state, it still managed to slice across Sirius' face in three shallow, yet perfectly symmetrical lines. At first he looked stunned but when he noticed the blood dripping onto the ground, he became enraged.

"You _bitch!_ " He snarled, his eyes flashing as he raised his wand to her again. " _Levicorpus!_ "

The spell promptly yanked her upside down into the air by her ankles and as she was still paralyzed buy the Impediment jinx, she was unable to hold any of her clothes to her body. Thank Merlin she had transfigured her clothes into a t-shirt tucked into muggle jeans before coming to the Black Lake. Her robes slipped from her lank arms, pooling in a pile on the ground and leaving her skin of arms bare.

Everyone went deathly silent and stared at her in horror.

She knew exactly what they were staring at.

She had forgotten to glamour it this morning. Shit.

"Which one of you did that?" Severus hissed, his voice eerily calm. "Which one of you did that to her?"

Hermione internally cursed herself for glossing over the memory of Bellatrix torturing her. She should have shown him but… she didn't want to be forced to relive it with him, as if she was on the floor of the drawing room, writhing under the Cruciatus all over again.

She was only human, after all.

Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all looked collectively horrified and nauseous at the same time but no one answered.

When he spoke again, his violent roar was deafening, "Which one of you carved that _fucking word_ into her arm?!"

James spoke up, "We would _never_ —"

Sirius rasped, "No, no not _that—_ "

Lily, who Hermione knew was also a muggleborn _—_ and since James was her brother here, meaning he must be as well _—_ brought her hands to her mouth and looked like she was going to vomit, "Sweet Merlin—"

Sirius concentration was broken and Hermione went tumbling to the ground, the spells on her broken. She gagged and coughed, choking out mouthfuls of pink bubbles onto the grass. James arms went limp and Severus came rushing to her side, transfiguring a rock into a goblet and casting a quick _Auguamenti_ to fill it with cool, clear water. "Drink," he said, shoving the cup into her trembling hands. When she continued to cough, he nudged her hands. "Drink, Hermione. Breathe. Come on."

After she managed to drink the goblet and stop choking, she looked up at him, "It wasn't them," she rasped, her voice hoarse. "It happened during the war."

His eyes closed and he slumped forward, resting his forward against hers, "Merlin, witch. You have been through it all." He cupped her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek. "Are you okay? Do you have a preference as to which of them I should hex first?"

"What in the world is going on here?" A thick Scottish brogue sliced through crisp, spring air, startling them all. Professor McGonagall look around the group, eyes widening at she caught sight of Sirius' bleeding face and the remaining pink soapy bubbles on Hermione's skin and clothing. "Well?" She demanded.

Lily thrust her arm out, pointing at Hermione, "She did it! She hexed Sirius!"

Sirius and James only nodded in silent agreement.

Professor McGonagall strode forwards, grabbing Hermione by her arm and hauling her to her feet, apparently unconcerned with the fact that she wasn't even in possession of a wand. She levitated Hermione's bag towards her until it was within her reach and Hermione could sling it over her shoulder.

Severus started, slipping Hermione's wand discreetly into her pocket, "Wait, Professor that's not—"

"Enough, Mr. Snape," she snapped, dragging Hermione towards the castle. "While I can appreciate your loyalty to your friend, hexing another student in such a violent way is serious. This is a matter for the Headmaster."

Hermione only had the chance to look back once, but it was enough.

Severus was looking at her like a man seeing the sun for the first time.

He finally knew the truth.

He was looking at her like he knew her.

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 ***Your reviews let me know if I'm going in the right direction, so thank you guys so much.***


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Come on, everyone. You KNOW this. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

 ***And so, we start to wrap up the tangled threads of time. Just a few more chapters to go now.***

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Professor Dumbledore, looking exactly the same as he had the last time she saw him alive, minus the blackened hand of course, sat back in his large, plush armchair, steepling his fingers against his chin as he slid like water from her mind. "First and foremost, Miss—ahem, pardon me, _Unspeakable_ Granger—are you quite alright?"

She nodded, "I am. But I expect they will be punished for assaulting me?"

"That is something we will have to discuss. Surely you understand about Remus Lupin's condition and should his friends be removed from the school…"

"I'm not asking you to expel them," Hermione said coolly. "I just asked if they were going to be sufficiently punished for what they did. You do realize I could take it to the Ministry if I chose?"

His eyebrows twitched, "Fair enough, Unspeakable Granger. I suppose you have something to recommend?"

"Back home, when one of the Aurors inevitably got a little too haphazard with their hexing, they were sent to work in the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's so they could work with the consequences of irresponsible spellcasting. That always seemed to straighten them out."

More than straighten them out, if she were being totally honest. She would never forget the look on Ron's face when he had come back from his mandatory community service at St. Mungo's. Whatever he saw, whatever they made him do, he had never hexed another suspect without probable cause ever again, no matter if they were a former Death Eater or not.

Daphne had even mentioned that he had crippling nightmares for months afterwards.

Hermione was not a vindictive person and these people would most likely become Harry's family at some point, so while she didn't want to ruin their lives, she did want them to face consequences for their bullying. If they didn't, she was afraid that they would end up exactly as they had in her time—petty, spiteful instigators to the end, never caring to see the error of their ways. If they were going to survive long enough to raise Harry, then Hermione would see to it that he had proper role models this time. He deserved as much.

He was quiet for a moment, "And you would consider that sufficient? You would consider the matter handled?"

"So long as you made it a new, standard form of punishment for bullying of any kind, I would."

If he was surprised by her request, he didn't show it. Not that she expected him to. Hermione had long suspected that the Headmaster and staff were aware of the bullying that went on, mostly between the Slytherins and Gryffindors, yet did not deem it worthy enough of their time to stop it. If she had to threaten to expose him and Remus Lupin to the Ministry in order to change that, so be it.

Dumbledore scratched something onto a piece of parchment, "I will have to make a few Floo calls, but it should not be a problem." He set his quill down, turning his attention back to her. "Now, we should discuss the things you have shown me. First and foremost, the horcruxes. From the detail provided by your memories and your notes, it would seem that he has already created five of the seven."

Hermione nodded, "I believe so. Harry hasn't been conceived yet and I don't believe he created the one within Nagini until a few years after we started attending Hogwarts."

He nodded thoughtfully, "You have described them in great detail; it should not be a problem to find and destroy them."

"You might want to take care of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets first. You'll need the venom in its fangs in order to destroy them."

"Yes, yes," he scratched another note onto the parchment. "I will see that it is done."

"Will you…" Hermione paused, taking a deep breath. "Do you think you'll be able to prevent the wars with this information? Do you think you'll be able to save the people who died the first time around?"

Dumbledore was quiet for a long time, seemingly choosing his words very carefully, "With the details you have provided, I can say with the utmost certainty that many lives will be spared," he looked at her over his half-moon spectacles. "I cannot promise, however, that we can prevent them all."

"Of course. I understand."

He surveyed her for a moment before speaking again, "Severus Snape is a resilient one, Unspeakable Granger. If there is anyone who will benefit from what you have done here today, it will be him."

She felt the knot in her chest loosen and she let out a sigh of relief.

"From what I have seen in your mind, it would seem that I used him most egregiously throughout his life. While I am certain that I had a good reason to do so, I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to tell you that I'm sorry for hurting someone you care so deeply for. Hopefully, I will have no cause to do so this time."

That took her quite by surprise. She had never imagined that he would ever, _ever_ , in any lifetime or other, apologize for the things he had done for 'the Greater Good'. She had always painted him with a broad brush, whittling him down to nothing more than a scheming, manipulative old man with no regard for anyone's wellbeing but those that he deemed worthy. It was very, very nice to see that she was mistaken.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said sincerely. "I… I really appreciate that and I think Professor Snape, the one that I knew, would too."

He gave her a warm, grandfatherly smile, "I'm very glad. Now, before I can get started on tracking down these horcruxes and irrevocably altering the future as you know it, we must discuss the Wishing Stone. I assume you still have it?"

She nodded.

"Good. Keep it close; it will be your key to going home."

"Home?" Her heart lurched. What would be waiting for her there? What would her life be like when she returned? The gargoyle told her that her old life was gone so… what was she going back to? "I didn't realize that was possible."

"Oh yes," Dumbledore smiled, popping a cockroach cluster into his mouth. "Once you smash it, it should take you right back to your own time, right to where you left from."

She chewed her lip anxiously, "And… all of this? Is all of this real?"

He frowned, cocking his head, "Whatever do you mean? Of course it's real."

"No, I mean…" Hermione struggled to find the right words. "My memories are still the same. I still remember the war, everyone that died, what life was like after. Does that mean that all of this is like a dream? A hallucination conjured by the Wishing Stone?"

"Not at all. Your memories have not and will not change because you already lived through them. No matter of altering with time will change that. Even if you were to go back in time in the universe you've shown me, back to a time before the war started, you will still remember it because it already happened to _you_. I believe that is why the Wishing Stone brought you to this alternate version of your reality. It must have known that there were things where you came from that were simply inevitable and unable to be changed."

She sighed, "I suppose that's understandable."

His eyes softened, "I know the things you lived through were difficult, Hermione. I felt your pain, I was there with you through your memories. While I cannot recommend it, I am certain that you could find someone to _Obliviate_ you when you returned home if it was still too much for you to bear."

Hermione considered this for a moment, "That would be the easiest solution, wouldn't it?"

Dumbledore's gaze did not waver, "It would. But there comes a time when we must all make the choice between what is right and what is easy."

And just like that, she knew she would never let someone _Obliviate_ her. It would the coward's way out and while Hermione Granger was many things, she was not a coward.

Hermione straightened in her chair, "When do I have to leave?"

"Whenever you like," he said simply. "I would not recommend staying overlong but a few days should not make a difference."

A few days. A few days to be with Severus before diving headlong into the unknown of her future.

It would have to be enough.

Hermione began gathering her things, save for the notes she was leaving with Dumbledore, "Must I attend classes? I have to admit that as much as I enjoyed Hogwarts, I am in no hurry to repeat the experience, especially as a muggleborn in Slytherin."

He chuckled, "Considering the circumstances, I understand wholeheartedly. You may skip them. I will provide sufficient documentation to your professors. And please tell Mr. Snape that he may miss out on his classes for the next few days as well."

Hermione turned to the Headmaster in surprise, "Sir?"

His eyes twinkled, "You've shown me _everything_ , Unspeakable Granger. Surely you did not think that I would gloss over those particular memories in my old age, did you? I also surveyed those of your initial discovery of the Wishing Stone in excruciating detail. I am quite aware of the affection your harbor for him."

She flushed, hoisting her bag over her shoulder, "Right. Yes, of course."

Just as she reached the door, the Headmaster called out to her again, "And Unspeakable Granger?"

Hermione turned, "Yes?"

His tone was so soft, so sincere that it nearly brought her to tears, "He would be a fool to dismiss you. You are a remarkable young woman and to find a love such as yours is rare in this world."

"Thank you, Headmaster," she had crossed the threshold of the door before turning back to him one last time. "Sir? Will everyone remember I was here? When I go back home?"

He looked very thoughtful at this, "That could admittedly cause problems when you finally attend Hogwarts in your own time. Although, I suppose it is just as well that I'm rather gifted at memory charms."

"And you'll… you'll _Obliviate_ everyone?"

"Is there someone besides Mr. Snape that you would object to?"  
Unsure if it was wise, Hermione nodded, "Could you just tell a few people the truth so they can remember me? I think it would be useful for the future."

He nodded, picking up his quill, "Name them, if you please."

"James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, and the Greengrass girl who's my dorm mate."

Dumbledore hesitated, "You are certain?"

"Yes. I'm friends with Lily's son in the future and on the off-chance that he exists when I return… I just want his parents to remember to raise him properly. I don't want him to be a bully. And as for the other—one of my friends might still be married to Daphne Greengrass when I get back. If her mother survives her illness this time… it would be nice to be able to be friends with her again; she has been very kind to me here and I would like to repay her someday if I can."

The Headmaster seemed to accept her reasoning and jotted the names down on his parchment, "It will be done, Unspeakable Granger. Now, if you'll excuse me," his eyes twinkled as he stood from behind his desk and adjusted his robes. "I have a Dark Lord to thwart."

Hermione was still smiling as she descended the stairs from the Headmaster's tower, thankful to all the Gods that she had been wrong about Albus Dumbledore.

x-x-x

Before she made it to the bottom of the large central staircase, Severus was upon her.

"What happened?" He demanded, a little breathless. "You've been in there for ages! Is everything okay? What did he—"

Hermione smiled, unable to remember a time in her old life when she had seen him so worked up over something, "Everything's fine. I was just showing the Headmaster what I know from my time so he could do his best to prevent it. Rifling through that many memories takes time, you know."

Severus looked skeptical, "And you aren't in trouble for hexing Black's face?"

She couldn't help but crack a smile, "You know, he never even brought it up."

He looked positively floored.

"Dare I ask where the rest of your posse has gone to?" Hermione asked, trying her best to sound dismissive.

"Just before you came down, Professor Dumbledore's patronus appeared and the next thing I knew, McGonagall was hauling all four of them by their ears to the Floo in her office."

She smirked, almost too pleased with herself, "Glad to hear it."

His heavy brows pulled down, "Did he… did he find a way to send you home?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"Hey," Hermione nudged his shoulder to get his attention. "He gave me a few more days and…" She hesitated, blushing. "He said you could skip your classes until I leave."

He couldn't look more surprised if the Headmaster himself had shown up and disrobed right in front of the Great Hall, "Why would he do that?"

She cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at him, "He went through my memories, _all_ of my memories, Severus. Take a guess."

When she chanced a glance at him, he was flushing furiously too. Once again thanking his Occlumency shields, he seemed to push whatever he was feeling down far enough to look halfway normal, "What now, then?"

She thought for a moment, a perfect idea dawning on her, "Ever been to the Room of Requirement?"


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all that entails. Duh.**

 ***And now, we say a tearful goodbye to 1975 Severus.***

* * *

They were lounging on a pair of soft brown leather couches that sat perpendicular to the large, roaring fireplace which was flanked, inevitably, by rich, intricately carved bookcases. The Room of Requirement had never let her down before and it certainly didn't now. Hermione pulled a thick blanket tighter around her shoulders, balancing a lovely steaming cup of tea on her knees.

"What do you think it will be like?" He asked quietly. "You know, when you go back."

"I haven't the slightest idea," she admitted with an anxious frown. "The gargoyle said the life that I knew was gone."

"Do you think I might be there?"

She raised her eyes and they met, onyx and cinnamon, "I seriously hope so."

He flushed, shifting his head down so that his long hair obscured his face, "M-me, too."

There was a long stretch of silence with only the crackling of logs before Hermione spoke again, "I'm honestly surprised that you aren't more upset about Lily and Sirius."

She knew she was being shifty and underhanded, but she _was_ a Slytherin in this strange universe after all. She wanted to know what he really thought about the entire situation, but she was trying her best not to succumb to the ingrained Gryffindor desire to just blurt her question and demand to an answer. For Merlin's sake, she was technically 28 years old. She'd like to think that over the years, she had learned a little something about tact from Draco.

Severus rested his head against the armrest of his couch, eyes trained on the ceiling, "I probably should be," he admitted. "But I just can't seem to summon the feeling. After seeing your memories—seeing the absolute Hell I put myself through for twenty years after she died, along with the knowledge of just what kind of person she really is… I just can't seem to be that upset about it. If anything, I'm actually glad I learned the truth now, before I deified her any more than I already had. It was bad enough to see myself in your mind, shackled to her memory like a prisoner until it ultimately killed me. I can't imagine having to actually live that out."

Her eyebrows were almost in her hair, "That's surprisingly mature."

He eyed her sharply, "I am not like the rest of these dunderheads, Hermione. I have brains and tend to use them when necessary."

"I know."

It was quiet again.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you… would you tell me about yourself?" He asked sheepishly. "You know so much about me and I know almost nothing about you, other than what I've seen in your mind."

Her heart did a curious little flip.

"Of course, Severus," she smiled. "What would you like to know?"

The intensity of his eyes cut right through her, "Everything."

x-x-x

The Room of Requirement morphed as the night stretched on, widening their respective couches and plumping them to be comfortable places to sleep. Almost certainly sent by the omnipotent Headmaster, House Elves brought them enough food to feed a small army for several days, let alone a single evening and the Room eventually expanded itself to accommodate a small, fully-equipped bathroom as well.

She had been talking about herself for hours, her voice nearly hoarse with overuse. When was the last time she'd talked so much? No one, save Draco, ever cared about the things she had to say like this. No one, save Draco, listened with rapt attention like this, interrupting with only an occasionally snarky comment or witty observation.

As it turns out, she'd ended up talking about Draco a lot.

"You seem very close with him," Severus commented slyly. "Why did nothing ever happen between you two? He seems like a perfect match for you."

Was that a slight hint of jealousy in his tone? Internally, Hermione danced a little jig. Externally, she smirked, "Oh yes, quite perfect if you disregard the fact that I find him appalling and that the female anatomy does not interest him in the slightest. You're more his type than I am, I'm afraid."

Severus choked on his tea, "I was his godfather!" He cried rather indignantly.

Hermione couldn't hold back her peals of laughter. "Sorry, sorry," she managed, putting her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughs. "But you really did have that one coming. You know good and well that Draco is as gay as they come. Did you pay attention to my memories at all? I know you saw Harry with him. Merlin have mercy, the sexual tension between them could be stifling sometimes."

Once he managed to breathe again, he grumbled, "Considering the way you speak of him, it was a perfectly reasonable question."

She sighed, turning on her side to face his couch, "Draco is one of my best friends; I'm probably closer to him than I ever even was with Harry, to be perfectly honest. We had such a terrible history when we were at Hogwarts and then, during the height of the war, he had to watch a member of his own family torture me on the floor of a room where he played as a child. I didn't understand our relationship at first either, it struck me as so odd considering that there was absolutely no attraction on either side of it at all. But as the years went on, he would reveal bits and pieces of himself to me little by little until eventually I was able to put it all together. Draco was never a bad person, even you and Dumbledore had known that; he just had the misfortune of being brought up to be a hateful bigot. After… you died, I was a fucking mess." Hermione looked at the floor, embarrassed. "I stopped taking care of myself for a long time. Ron was busy with his new wife and Harry tried to help, bless his heart, he really did, but he just didn't get it. He didn't understand why I couldn't just move on like everyone else. I think, even back then, Draco suspected about how I felt. And since you were, for all intents and purposes, a part of his family, he was the only one who actually understood. Once he pulled me out of my depression back to reality, he was like a brother to me. We just… we just understood each other. It's been like that ever since."

"It's good that you had him then," he said quietly, tucking his arm under his head.

"Yes," she agreed vehemently. "I wouldn't have made it without him."

x-x-x

The next day was much the same. They puttered around the altered Room of Requirement, sometimes talking, sometimes reading, and sometimes just enjoying each other's presence. Severus didn't seem to have a thousand questions for her today, though that certainly didn't mean that he refrained from asking any at all.

"What was it about me?" He asked as they ate a lunch of chilled cucumber sandwiches. When her sandwich came to a halt a few inches from her mouth and she let out a chuckle, he flushed. "I-I'm not fishing for compliments, you insufferable woman! I am just genuinely curious."

She rolled her eyes, "Right."

"No, really," he said softly. "I saw what I was like in your memories… how I looked." When she went to argue with his assessment, Severus growled. "Just listen for once, damn it! Do you always have to interrupt?"

How very Professor Snape-like. Hermione stifled her grin and motioned for him to continue.

"You thought I was a Death Eater. I mean, I _was_ technically, but… Gods damn it all, you know what I'm asking. Why are you making me struggle and embarrass myself?" He snarled, tossing his sandwich back onto his plate with a little more force than strictly necessary.

She smirked, "Because it's positively adorable."

His cheeks burned bright red and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, "Just… just tell me, would you?"

Hermione set her food down and brushed off her hands, giving him her full attention as she considered her answer, "First of all, you were not ugly by any stretch of the imagination. Let's get that straight."

He whipped his head around, glaring and already opening his mouth, but she raised a hand to stop him.

"Did you want my answer, or not?"

Severus muttered something unintelligible under his breath but nodded anyway.

"Just because others couldn't appreciate the ways in which you were striking, does not mean that you weren't at all. I feel the same way about how you look right now. And honestly, more fool them for their blindness."

His eyes widened.

She was thoughtful as she continued, "Second of all, you were—you _are_ —absolutely brilliant. I've never met someone as intelligent, as creative, as unique as you. Your mind is like an intricate machine and in the unlikely event of you ever letting me in there, I highly doubt even I would be able to keep up."

He was staring at her in utter disbelief now.

"Third and most important of all," Hermione reached across the table and grabbed his hand, cinnamon eyes locked on his, "you have a capacity for love and affection the likes of which I have never seen in another person, even if you _do_ hide it behind being a total prick. And Severus," she squeezed his hand and he blinked. "Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that should be on their knees every single day, thanking the Gods for such a gift."

Severus sat, stunned into silence for all of half a minute before lurching across the small coffee table, winding his hand into her hair and yanking her forward to crash his lips against hers in a fierce kiss. "How do you see me?" He asked, his voice harsh and thick and Hermione could see tears in the corners of his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. " _How_ do you see me when no one in my old life or this one could?"

"I am not like the rest of these dunderheads, Severus," she grinned, heart racing wildly. "I have brains and tend to use them when necessary."

"Thank the fucking Gods for that," and he kissed her again.

x-x-x

The third day was upon them and they were both somber as the minutes ticked by. They had discussed it and determined that she would spend this final day with him in the Room of Requirement and then, sometime before nightfall, she would smash the Wishing Stone in an attempt to get back home.

Neither of them were thrilled at the prospect.

Severus draped his lanky arm across her shoulders and she sighed, burrowing into his side under the blanket the Room had left for her on her couch that first day. He pressed his lips into her bushy hair for probably the hundredth time in under an hour.

"What if I'm not there? What if I'm still not around when you get back?"

Hermione let her eyes close against the wave of panic that threatened to drag her under at the thought, "Please don't say that."

"It's a very real possibility, Hermione," he said softly. "If Dumbledore was right and you end up right back in the Department of Mysteries, exactly the same age as when you left…"

"Then you'll just have to make sure to leave me some sort of message somewhere," she whispered. " _If_ you want me to come after you, that is."

He chuckled, the deep sound rumbling his chest and seeping into her skin, "And you're supposed to be the Brightest Witch of your Generation? Merlin help us all."

She shoved him halfheartedly and he simply grinned at her and pulled her tighter against him. The pain eased a little at the thought that he did intend to try things with her in her time.

Severus cleared his throat, all playfulness gone, "And if I don't make it? If I die again?"

Just like that, the crippling fear was back with a vengeance. She squeezed her eyes shut against the strength of it, "Then at least we had this."

" _Yes_ ," he murmured, kissing her temple reverently. "We did."

x-x-x

It was time.

The House Elves had graciously delivered Hermione's Wishing Stone to the Room of Requirement some hours before and now she held it gingerly in her palms, thumbs running across the inscription over and over as if would change again and give her some way to stay with him.

It didn't.

The stared at each other in the tense silence, each as unsure of what to say as the other. The clock above the mantle chimed then, startling them both. It was 8:00, the time they agreed she would smash the stone.

It was time.

Hermione bit her lip a little too hard, drawing a small bead of blood from the broken skin. Severus pulled her lip from between her teeth with his thumb and tilted her face upwards, "I _will_ find you, Hermione. I'll consult with Dumbledore if I have to, but I will. Even if I have to wait until you're 28 again."

Tears welled in her eyes and her throat constricted, "I'm so sorry I have to leave you for so many years; that there will be such a long time before I remember coming here."

He gave her a sad smile, "If it means I'll get you at the end of it all, I won't mind waiting so much. It will be worth it."

A sob broke from her then and she covered her mouth to stifle it.

Severus pulled her hand down and wrapped his arms around her, "Just in case I don't… in case _we_ don't…" His grip on her tightened and he spoke into her hair. "Just know that I will never forget what you did for me. You changed my life and you may very well have saved it, too."

She managed a sarcastic little snort, "That part remains to be seen."

He chuckled softly, "Don't be a smartass or I'll be forced to take points from whatever House you eventually end up in the moment you're Sorted."

She cried a little harder at that. Fuck, they were going to have to wait for _so long_.

The clock chimed again.

"Come on," he said gently, pulling back and lifting her hands that held the Wishing Stone. "Putting it off isn't going to change anything. It will only make it harder."

Hermione nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steel herself. Before she could step back, Severus pressed his lips gently to hers, winding a hand around her neck and digging his fingers into her scalp one final time. "One for the road," he breathed against her mouth when he finally pulled away.

Gods damn him, she couldn't help but smile, "You're surprisingly funny."

He shrugged a little, "I have my moments."

As quickly as the moment came, it was gone. "Promise me you'll be safe," she pleaded, searching his eyes. " _Promise me_."

Severus looked deep into her eyes, dropping his Occlumency shields so she could see the sincerity there, "I swear to you, Hermione. I will."

Finally, Severus took a few large steps back to avoid being hit by any residual glass. Hermione raised the heavy ball high over her head, never once looking away from his face.

"See you in 32 years," Severus grinned, though she could tell that the hands he had shoved into his pockets were shaking.

Before she lost her nerve, Hermione breathed, "I love you, Severus."

She dropped her arms and the crystal ball shattered against the stone floor.

As if she were nothing more than Apparating, there was a sharp tug behind her navel and 1975 was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, no one else.**

 ***And so we have reached the end of our time travel journey. I am still debating on an epilogue; we shall see. Also, please be warned of the LEMONY LEMONY ADULT LEMONS in this chapter. You've been warned. And be nice, please. I've never written lemons before this story.***

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes again, her fears were immediately confirmed. She was right back where she started—in the ground vault of the Department of Mysteries.

She sat up slowly, head spinning as she took stock of everything. In her right hand was the un-shattered Wishing Stone, though it looked slightly different now. Instead of being filled with tumbling gray smoke, it was completely bare and clear. She held it up to the firelight and could see right through it, as if it were nothing more than a molded sphere of glass. It felt cold now, not warm like the first time she had touched it. The rhyming inscription then dissipated before her eyes, leaving the surface smooth once more.

Hermione managed to stumble to her feet and place the Wishing Stone back on the small brass pedestal she had originally found it on. If the story, the theories, were correct and it could only be used once, there was no point in keeping it anymore.

Once the room stopped spinning, she smoothed her deep indigo Ministry robes—hadn't those been maroon before?—and finally made her way to the lift that would take her into the unknown of her new life.

The doors slid open.

x-x-x

The office looked exactly the same as it had when she left; three desks separated by ugly gray partitions next to the windows, two desks near the door, one desk in the small office to the right. Wilting potted plants hovered in various places near the ceiling and the carpet was still dark and threadbare where they all walked each day. Even the mountainous piles of paperwork she remembered sat, undisturbed on each and every desk collecting dust. The quill she'd been using the morning before she descended to the ground vault was sitting exactly where she had left it—perpendicular to the parchment she'd been marking.

Had anything actually changed, other than the color of her robes?

"Granger!" Her boss barked as usual, emerging from his tiny corner office. "Where the hell have you been? You went down nearly an hour ago!"

Only an hour? But she'd been gone for days…

"Sorry, sir. I must have lost track of time and —"

"Never mind, never mind," he huffed, waving his hand around hard enough to disturb the air around his ridiculous mustache. "Just get to the Atrium before your boyfriend has an aneurysm. He's been up here twice already looking for you."

Her eyes widened and her heart stumbled and tripped over itself, "M-my boyfriend?"

"Did I stutter? Merlin, Granger what is wrong with you today?"

She shook her head a little and managed to give her boss a small smile, "Sorry sir, it's just been a long one."

He simply grunted and turned back into his office, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione took off sprinting through the same, familiar Ministry halls she'd been traversing for the past nine years. A few friendly faces grinned at her knowingly as she darted past but she didn't slow to acknowledge any of them. Her pulse was racing and her hands were trembling with anticipation. He said her boyfriend was waiting for her. Her _boyfriend_. There was only one person in this life or any other that she would even consider granting that title to. That could only mean...

She bumped past a few grumbling Ministry workers in yellow Wizengamot robes as she flew down the multitude of staircases that led from the eleventh floor where the Unspeakables worked to the main floor where the Atrium sat. There wasn't a chance in all the Hells that she would have the patience to wait for the lift. Not now.

Once she reached the main floor, Hermione burst through the door that separated the staircases from Atrium. Not wanting to embarrass herself in front of him, Hermione paused for a moment to catch her breath and straighten her hair and robes. She had just seen him mere minutes ago, but for him it would have been 32 years. Panic gripped her and she paused, hands on her wild curls. What if he had outgrown her? What if he no longer wanted to be with her? What if, over the years, he found someone else?

But her boss had called him her boyfriend, hadn't he? Surely that meant…

"Hermione!"

She looked up to see Draco, looking as immaculate and regal as ever, striding towards her with a warm smile on his face. Her heart lept into her throat; she had been terrified of the prospect of a life without his presence, unable to imagine how she would ever be able to make it without him if Severus somehow didn't survive this time around. Hermione barreled forward, slamming directly into his chest and audibly knocking the air from his lungs.

"Whoa," he chuckled, returning her embrace with ease. "Someone's sure happy to see me."

"I am so happy you're here," she gasped, gripping him tighter. "Merlin's balls, I missed you _so much_. You won't even believe the things I have to tell you."

"You just saw me yesterday, but I appreciate the sentiment," he rubbed her back for a moment before pulling away. "And you can tell me on the way. Are you ready to go?"

Hermione felt her stomach twist. Was Draco the one her boss was referring to? No. No, that _couldn't_ be right. She would never, never ever in any life date Draco Malfoy. She loved him, there was no disputing that fact, but that love was much the same as it was for Harry. It was a sibling love, a companion love, not a romantic one.

"Where are we meant to be going?"

Draco rolled his steel gray eyes, "Don't tell me you've forgotten _again_. Dinner? With the parents? Planned months ago? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Nausea roiled in her gut. Why the bloody hell would she be going to dinner with Draco and his parents? Even before she found the Wishing Stone, Hermione had never met his mother. Not even at Lucius' funeral where Draco never let go of her hand for a moment.

"I seem to remember something about that," she lied, tucking her trembling hands into the voluminous pockets of her robes. "Remind me why I agreed to do this again?"

He slid an arm through hers and began leading them to the Ministry entrance and exit Floos, "Because you love me and you know I would never be able to go through with it by myself. I am far too intimidated by those people to not make a fool of myself."

She frowned, "You're intimidated by your own parents?"

"No, you daft ninny. By Harry's parents. Merlin only knows why they even agreed to this. You know they can't stand me or my family. Sorry for barging into your office like that by the way, but you know how I get when I'm anxious about something. I tend to lose all sense of decorum that I ever learned."

Well that was one piece of the puzzle solved. Draco and Harry were still together here, thank all the Gods.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said offhandedly, far too confused by everything to care that her boss seemed mildly irritated by the intrusion. "So it's going to be your parents, Harry's parents, you, and me. Anyone else I should prepare for?"

She did not miss the sly smile that spread across his face at that, "Ah yes, I _may_ have invited one more to the party. But he is still working at the moment so whether or not he makes it to dinner remains to be seen."

"And that's it? No name?"

Draco turned to her, eyes gleaming mischievously in the firelight, "Now that wouldn't be very Slytherin of me, would it? I swear Hermione, you should have been sorted into Gryffindor for all your tact. I stand by what I said: you never would have survived in Slytherin without me."

As Draco called out 'Malfoy Manor' and disappeared into the emerald green flames of the Floo, it hit her.

She had been sorted into Slytherin.

Holy shit.

x-x-x

Hermione stumbled, as always, completely unceremoniously through the Floo, only managing to avoid falling face first onto the ornate Oriental rug thanks to Draco's preparedness to catch her. Apparently, some things did not change.

He spelled the soot from both of their clothes and waved his wand to calm her hair, "Are you wearing something acceptable under those robes or shall I find something for you?"

She removed the Ministry-issue robes, revealing the same snowy white, silken blouse and burgundy skirt she remembered from before the incident with the Wishing Stone. He transfigured her black stockings to a sheer nude and her sensible heels to a bit taller and sexier.

"Much better," he mumbled. "What about me? Do I look alright? Should I change? What about my hair? Is it too much? And these cufflinks—"

Hermione couldn't help but smile; she had never seen him this flustered before, "You look perfect as always, Draco. You know that. You're just fishing for compliments now."

Draco let out a sigh, lifting his hand to run it through his hair before thinking better of it, "What would I do without you, Hermione?"

She shrugged, "You'd be a right mess, probably."

"Gods, isn't _that_ the understatement of the century," Narcissa Malfoy, looking every bit like a Botticelli angel, came striding into the room with a resplendent smile on her lovely, crimson lips. "Hermione dear, you're looking beautiful as ever this evening." She kissed Hermione's right cheek and patted the left one affectionately. "I told you my tailor would do wonders for your wardrobe. Your chest looks fabulous."

"Mother," Draco whined, "can you pay attention to your son for five seconds? I'm practically falling to pieces here and you're busy gawking over how nice her tits look!"

"Language, Draco," an alive, healthy, vibrant Lucius Malfoy drawled, sidling up next to Narcissa with a reproving look on his face aimed at his son. He turned to Hermione and his face softened tenderly. "Cissa is right, Hermione. You look stunning. I'm certain that Sev—"

Narcissa put a slender hand over Lucius' mouth, icy blue eyes sparkling, "Is my Slytherin husband about to stick his foot in his mouth as if he were a bumbling Gryffindor?"

He chuckled, pulling her hand down, "My apologies, love."

Draco stamped his foot in frustration, "This night is supposed to be about me and you two are fawning over Hermione like I am not even here!"

Narcissa smiled at her son, "You look very handsome, Draco. Doesn't he, Lucius?"

He nodded in agreement, putting his hands on Draco's shoulders and staring into his eyes, "Listen to me, son. There is nothing to be nervous about. We are all here with you, no matter the outcome of this evening. Just be yourself; you do not need to change who you are to impress anyone."

Draco seemed to relax and, to Hermione's utter shock, threw his arms around his father who returned the embrace without hesitation.

What a strange world.

"Come, come boys," Narcissa ushered Draco and Lucius towards the staircase. "We should be prepared to receive them in the dining room. Hermione, just as we planned, love. Please greet them when they come through the Floo and bring them up."

Even as she agreed and the three Malfoy's shuffled gracefully up the stairs, Hermione felt as though she were in a dream. She never imagined living in a world where she would be on friendly terms with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, let alone be treated with such affection and adoration. In this place, they didn't seem to care that she was a Mudblood or that she technically didn't belong among Pureblood society. In this place, they accepted her almost as if she were family.

It was enough to make her head spin.

The Floo activated then, the green flames roaring to life moments before two more people stepped into the foyer. Hermione turned to see a much older Lily Evans and Sirius Black spelling the soot from their robes with barely concealed annoyance. It was obvious from the start they didn't want to be here. Suddenly Draco's anxiety made sense and Hermione felt a flash of anger. How _dare_ they?

They both caught sight of her immediately but it was Sirius who nodded in acknowledgement first, "Miss Granger."

Lily followed suit, hardly tilting her head as she huffed, "Granger."

Hermione lifted a single eyebrow, "So formal? That's odd. Last I recall, you were referring to me as 'Hermy' and levitating me by my ankles."

They both froze, eyes wide with horror as they looked at her.

"Y-you…" Lily gasped. "It's _you_. You remember!"

"We just saw you a week ago," Sirius spluttered.

Her gaze did not waver, "I just got back. Less than an hour ago, in fact."

Neither of them seemed to know what to say.

"Now that we're all caught up, I want you both to listen and listen well," Hermione stalked forward, advancing on the pair with fire in her eyes. "Draco Malfoy is a wonderful person and you should be honored to have someone like him in love with your son. I don't know what your problem is with the Malfoy's and quite honestly, I don't care. Unless you want my memories of you assaulting me splashed across every news outlet in the Wizarding world, I suggest you listen to what Draco has to say this evening. He and Harry love each other and if find out that either of you are doing anything at all in an attempt to ruin their chance at happiness, I _will_ make you regret it. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

They were both pale but they nodded in acquiescence.

Hermione backed away, smiling as she beckoned towards the staircase, "Lovely. Now that that's all settled, let's all try and have a nice evening, shall we?"

Thankful for the one and only time Draco had ever brought her to Malfoy Manor in her old life, Hermione led Lily and Sirius to the dining room with a grin on her face and spring in her step.

It was nice to know that Dumbledore had kept his word.

x-x-x

The House Elves were just bringing out the appetizers when there was a sound of boots clacking against the stone steps. Hermione's back was to the doorway so she thought nothing of Lily and Sirius stiffening at their approaching guest until Lucius stood, smiling widely, "Ah, Severus! How wonderful, we were unsure if you would be able to attend this evening."

Hermione's fork went clattering against her plate.

He was here. He was _alive_.

The empty chair beside her pulled out briefly before he appeared beside her, "My apologies, Lucius. You know how working at the Ministry can be."

He chuckled, taking his seat again, "Of course. Hermione has often regaled us with stories of what life as an Unspeakable is like. We understand completely."

Lucius then turned back to continue his somewhat awkward conversation with Sirius and Narcissa was mediating something between Draco and Lily, so Severus tilted his head in Hermione's direction, "Miss Granger," he said in the rich, silky baritone of Professor Snape. "Marty as unbearable for you today as he was for me?"

Marty? But that was her boss…

Severus was an Unspeakable, too?

Hermione's hands were shaking so she set down her utensils and shoved them into her lap under the table. She cleared her throat, "No more so than usual."

"Mmmm," he said noncommittally, picking up his fork. "Perhaps he just had it out for me then. Though, it certainly wouldn't be the first time."

She didn't respond, gaze trained on the linen tablecloth. Her heart had seemed to take up residence in her throat, rendering any response impossible.

She could feel his deep obsidian eyes roving her face, "Are you quite alright, Miss Granger? You are usually much more talkative than this. I would even go so far as to say it's rare for me to be able to get in a word edgewise."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at him. He looked as she remembered Professor Snape did, though with significantly less lines on his face and without the deep groove of constant Occlusion carved between his brows. Instead of the teaching robes she had always seen him in, he was wearing a sharp, tailored three piece suit of deep black over a crisp white button down. His hair—flecked with dashing strands of silver—was long, to the middle of his back, tied with a black ribbon at the nape.

Fucking hell, he was magnificent.

His breath caught in immediate recognition and his voice was soft, "H-Hermione?"

She pressed her fingers into his arm beneath the table, "It's good to see you again, Severus."

Severus threaded his long, slender fingers through hers and pulled them both to their feet, "My sincerest apologies Draco," he said gruffly. "But we have to go. _Now_."

All three Malfoy's gave them identical, knowing grins and Lucius nodded, "Of course, my friend. You will see to it that Hermione makes it home safe, won't you?"

"Oh I don't think that will be a problem," Draco snickered behind his napkin.

Narcissa gave her son a halfhearted _tsk_ that was rendered rather ineffective by the warm look on her face.

Severus was already dragging her down the stairs and into the Floo before she could utter a single word of apology to anyone in the room.

x-x-x

They Floo'd directly to her flat which was, much to her surprise, exactly the same as she remembered it. The moment they were clear of the hearth, Severus whipped out his wand and warded it so that no one could call or come through. He then tossed his wand haphazardly onto the armchair, scooped her into his arms, and kissed her with a desperation she'd never before experienced. His teeth clacked against hers with the force of his kiss, but she didn't care. Hermione wrapped her arms around his broad, slender shoulders and ripped the tie from his hair, digging her fingers into it and securing him to her. Severus ran his hands up her back and down her sides like a blind man reading braille. It was as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her just in case they were ever parted again.

She certainly didn't mind.

"You're back," he breathed against her lips. "You've finally come back to me."

"You just kissed me goodbye a few hours ago," Hermione said, catching his lower lip between her teeth gently, wringing a growl from deep in his chest.

"I assure you," Severus cupped her face and pressed his forehead against hers. "It has been much, much longer for me."

"Mmmmm," she groaned as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and proceeded to taste every last inch, promptly turning her knees to jelly. "That hardly seems fair."

Severus ran his tongue down the column of her throat, worrying the sensitive skin until dark red marks bloomed there, "Perhaps you should make it up to me, then," he dragged his aquiline nose back up to her ear, whispering. "I have waited 32 years for you, after all."

Her breathing was harsh and labored as he tugged her silk blouse from the waistband of her skirt and slid his hands underneath to rest on her hips, "Such… a long time…" She gasped as his hands moved towards her chest. "You are… practically a saint…"

Her tailored shirt was too tight for him to reach his goal so he ripped it off, buttons flying in every direction and pinging against various surface around them.

"No…" Severus knelt in front of her, running his nose up her bare abdomen to the middle of her bra. He nudged her until she looked down at him and his black eyes were blazing. "I just never wanted anyone but you."

Hermione whimpered.

With lightning speed, Severus slung Hermione over his shoulder and made for her bedroom. He tugged down the zipper at the back of her skirt as he walked, flicking his fingers to vanish her stockings and bra.

"I… I have so many questions…" She managed through the haze of lust as he dragged his fingers across the curve where her thighs met her ass. "So… so much to talk about…"

"Later," he breathed, setting her on the bed and toeing off his dragonhide boots. "We have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment."

"Oh?" Hermione gasped as he tugged her skirt down her legs and pushed the torn shirt from her shoulders, baring her chest to him. "Like… what?"

Severus waved his hand at his body and then he was in nothing save for a pair of tight black boxer briefs that hugged his muscled thighs deliciously. She eyed him hungrily, gaze lingering on the large tenting of the front where his erection strained against the fabric. He knelt at the edge of the bed, long fingers crooking under the elastic of her practical blue boyshort knickers as he watched her face, "We defied the very laws of time and fate. I'd say that calls for a celebration."

Thankful to every deity she could name that his limbs were long enough for him to cup her breasts even as he was between her legs, Hermione bit her lip as he rolled her tight nipples between his deft fingers, sending a wave of heat into her lower abdomen. Severus kissed his way up her stomach until he reached her breasts, first lavishing attention with his masterful tongue on one then the other, back and forth, suckling and nuzzling until she felt as if she were going to spontaneously combust from the heat in her core.

"I have been waiting for the day when you would remember," he murmured, flicking her nipple with his tongue, over and over. "I never stopped hoping."

"I'm here," she gripped his hair and threw her head back into the blankets. "I'm never leaving you again."

Severus pushed her thighs as far apart as they would go, "Good," he said as he licked another lovely little trail down her stomach. "Because I don't intend to let you go."

Hermione cried out as she felt his tongue lap against her dripping core, up and down, only stopping for the occasional flick of her clit. She was trembling now, her entire body practically vibrating at his ministrations. When he dragged his fingers across her labia, fire erupted under her skin. When he plunged them into her and fucked her with them, she saw stars. When he added the swirl of his tongue to her clit, she screamed his name and shattered into a million iridescent little pieces.

Even before her orgasm had completely subsided, Severus was sliding into her. She gasped harshly, clawing at his back and shoulders as his hard length sent further aftershocks across the pleasure centers in her brain. He pressed his forehead against hers as he moved in and out, his sharply defined hips pressing against the delicate skin of her thighs with each thrust, bruising her deliciously. At first he had moved quickly, snapping his hips in quick succession, but he slowed now, drawing out each pleasurable sensation for as long as possible.

"Hermione," he groaned, the words warm as they brushed across her face. "Hermione, look at me…"

She managed to open her eyes just enough to see, the image of utter rapture on his face searing into her mind with perfect clarity for, undoubtedly, the rest of her life.

"I love you," he said reverently, threading their fingers and sliding their arms above her head, pressing them into the mattress. "I love you and I never stopped, not for a single moment."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as another orgasm crashed over her, " _Severus_ …"

"I love you," he repeated, softer and much more seriously, as he started thrusting faster. "I will always, _always_ love you."

She chanted his name like a prayer as another wave of pleasure shattered her, bringing Severus to his own right alongside it. He said her name, over and over, as he spilled his seed into her, always pressing his lips to her cheek, her temple, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her chin.

Even when they were both slick and sweaty and exhausted, he did not let her go.

They fell asleep completely entangled, from legs to hair.

x-x-x

"So Dumbledore was able to destroy the horcruxes before the war even really started?"

Severus nodded, handing her a cup of steaming tea, "With the information you gave him, he was able to finish it before I even graduated. Once Voldemort was no longer protected by the shield of immortality, his followers turned on him. Apparently, they were less concerned with being branded as traitors and more concerned with ending up in Azkaban."

Hermione took a sip, rolling her shoulders to work out the lovely kinks she had acquired when he woke her up in the middle of the night for another round of rather creative lovemaking, "And you still went on to get your Potions Mastery and work at Hogwarts anyway?"

He seemed confused, "Of course I did. I love Potions, you know that."

"But you hated teaching," she pointed out.

Severus shrugged, "Well someone had to make sure you and your little friends made it through your schooling in case Voldemort managed to come back. Even though he never did, I didn't want to risk it."

Hermione eyes softened, "Severus…"

"It was not so terrible," he said softly, brushing her cheek with his fingers. "You were sorted into Slytherin with Draco but without the threat of war, you were still able to be friends with Harry and Ron as well, even though they were in Gryffindor. You seemed happy enough."

"And were you still as much of a git to us as you were back in my old life?"

He chuckled, "Well, I am still me so yes, I imagine so."

Hermione burrowed into his side, "And when I graduated and became an Unspeakable…"

"I followed right behind you."

"How did you stand it?" She asked, running her fingers across the dark line of hair that went from his navel to his rather lovely… well. "Being around me for so many years when I didn't remember you?"

Severus was quiet for a moment, "It was not always easy," he admitted. "But when I found myself struggling to hold on, I would just use the pensieve to remember what I was waiting for."

"So you waited 32 to have sex."

He rolled his eyes but laughed anyway, " _That_ is what you took from that? Merlin, remind me to never try and be romantic with you."

She tilted her head to look up at him, cinnamon eyes soft, "I know what you meant, Severus."

He pressed his lips softly against hers, "Well you wouldn't be a Slytherin if you didn't attempt to mask your emotions with snark."

"Hmmm," Hermione hummed. "I wonder where I learned that from?"

"I hate to disappoint you, my love, but I am a bleeding heart Gryffindor through and through."

She climbed onto his lap, winding her fingers into his hair, "And yet I disagree." Hermione nipped at his earlobe, eliciting a hiss from him as she whispered. "See? I still say you should have been sorted into Slytherin."

He flipped her onto her back, nuzzling her chest as he smirked, "Perhaps in another life."

"Mmmm, yes," Hermione sighed. "Another life."


	10. Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: As much as I wish it were not so, J.K. Rowling is the only one who owns Harry Potter.**

 ***I couldn't resist a little epilogue to wrap everything up. Please, enjoy and let me know what you think. Thank you all for sticking with me as I struggled through my very first time travel story.***

* * *

It was four in the morning when Draco, who apparently still had access to her wards just as he had before, Apparated directly into her living room. They had all of six seconds to cover themselves before he came barreling into her bedroom, looking just as disheveled and thoroughly shagged as they no doubt did.

He scooped Hermione out of the bed, twirling her in circles around the room as if it were a completely normal thing to do in the wee hours of the morning, "I did it," Draco told her, a silly, soppy grin on his face. "I actually, _finally_ did it."

"Draco," Hermione grumbled, her voice thick with sleep, "what the hell are you talking about? More importantly, why are you barging into my room in the middle of the night and attempting to dance with me when I'm covered in nothing but a sheet? You do realize that you are about ten seconds away from your balls becoming purely decorative?"

"Yes Draco," Severus growled, his head slumping back against the pillow. "Do tell."

He deposited Hermione back onto the bed and fell to his knees in front of her, grabbing both of her hands in his, "I asked him, Hermione. I asked Harry to marry me and he said _yes_!"

"Whoa, wait. What?"

Draco nodded fervently, "I don't know what happened that made last night different than all the times I've tried before, but after you left I was able to convince Lily and Sirius to give me their blessing," he squeezed her hands. "I've been trying to convince them for months but they never agreed, not until last night at dinner. See? I told you you'd be a good luck charm for me!"

Hermione was fairly certain their acquiescence had less to do with her being a good luck charm and more to do with her threatening to expose their true colors to the entire Wizarding world, but did it really matter either way? She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, "That's fantastic, Draco! You've been living in sin with that poor boy for the last nine years; it's about time you make an honest woman out of him."

Both men chuckled a little.

Draco pulled back then, "Nice to see that _this_ " he gestured between her and Severus, "is finally happening, by the way. You two have been dancing around each other for ages."

Hermione let her head fall against Draco's shoulder as she let out a breathy laugh, "You don't even know the half of it."

"Yes, it's quite the tale," Severus grumbled, tugging on the back of the sheet that was barely managing to preserve her modesty. "One that we'd be happy to recount for you at a more reasonable hour when we are both fully dressed. Now will you please _get the fuck out_?"

After wringing a promise of details from her, Draco gave them both one last, sly look before Apparating away again.

"Remind me to change the wards on this place," Hermione mumbled as she curled back into his side.

"No point," he yawned, nuzzling his face into her hair. "The wards on my house are impenetrable. He'll never be able to get in like that again."

Sleep was already trying to drag her back under, "And you just assume that I'd want to live with you?"

"Naturally."

"Mmmmm," she hummed against his chest, eyes slipping closed as his breathing began to slow and steady. "Good enough for me. Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"Love you."

"Mmm," he sighed. "Love you, too."

 _Two years later…_

Harry and Draco's wedding was, of course, a completely over-the-top, lavish affair where the Malfoy's had spared no expense. It was held at Malfoy Manor—because was there any other place quite as beautiful?—in the middle of summer, the grounds having been charmed with thousands of white roses, tied together with ribbons of Gryffindor red and Slytherin green. There were lovely Elven-spun tents set up all over the courtyard, some for guests, some for food, and some for the gifts (of which there were a ridiculous amount. Did these people not realize that Draco had more money than the Queen of England?). In the middle of the courtyard, where the large, ornately carved stone fountain sat, they'd charmed a beautiful white-gold altar to be adorned with every color rose imaginable, painting a lovely rainbow against the crisp blue sky. When Narcissa had first shown Hermione her plans for the wedding, she'd be certain that it would like cheesy and cliché. Now, she knew to never again underestimate Narcissa Malfoy. Which was just as well, considering…

"What do you think of this fabric?" Narcissa asked her, flicking her wand to conjure the image of a fabric sample between them. "I was thinking that this would look lovely against your skin, perhaps with a touch of lace? I can't seem to get the picture of you in a Victorian-style gown out of my head."

Hermione was about to tell her that anything she wanted was honestly fine, that she didn't have a preference at all, when Draco came sidling up next to his mother, a look of loving exasperation on his face, "Can you just take ten minutes to enjoy _my_ wedding before planning another one?"

Narcissa flicked her wand to dissipate the image of the fabric, "Of course I can't, Draco. We've been waiting for this for years. There were times when we thought it would never happen and now that it has, I don't intend to let the opportunity slip away."

Hermione flushed and he rolled his eyes at his mother, "Nice to know Harry and I rank so low."

Narcissa pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, "Don't pout Draco, it's unbecoming. Besides, we knew you were going to marry that boy from the first letter you sent about him from Hogwarts. How you ended up in Slytherin, I'll never know."

Before Hermione could hear the same argument she'd been listening to for the last two years, Severus appeared beside her, "Pardon me, Narcissa, Draco, but would I be able to steal my fiancée away for a moment?"

"Of course, Severus," Narcissa kissed Hermione's cheek before turning back to her son. "We can discuss wedding gowns another time. Please, enjoy the rest of the reception."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered to Severus as he pulled her away. "She can be relentless. Does she really think I care what the bloody dress is going to look like? Merlin have mercy."

He eyed her, "Don't you? I was under the impression that most women were relentless when it came to their weddings."

"I am not 'most women'," she shrugged. "It really doesn't matter to me, to be honest. As long as I get to call you my husband when it's all said and done, I could wear a burlap sack and be just as happy."

He chuckled but his eyes were soft, "And then Narcissa would promptly keel over from a heart attack."

"Most likely."

Just as they reached the tent where the guest tables had been set up, someone else caught her arm. She turned to see Harry who, other than the curlier hair, scar-free forehead, and more angular features attributed to the Black family, looked exactly the way she remembered him from her old life. No matter how many times she saw him, it still brought her the same measure of comfort. His father may be different here, but other than a few physical differences he was almost exactly the same.

"May I steal the lovely lady for a dance, sir?"

Severus grinned, one eyebrow lifting in a familiar fashion, "You may. And Mr. Black? Or Mr. Malfoy, rather—I have not been your professor for a very long time. I believe it would be most appropriate for you to call me Severus."

Harry flushed, "Ah, r-right of course. Yeah, totally."

Hermione had to stifle a laugh. Still just as eloquent as before.

Taking mercy on the poor boy before he had a stroke, Hermione took his arm and led him to the small dance floor that had been conjured between the tents, "Did you really want to dance or was this just a ruse to get me alone?" She asked as they swayed awkwardly back and forth. "Because you and I both know good and well that neither of us can dance for shit."

Harry chuckled sheepishly, "Never could fool you, 'Mione."

"Gryffindor," she pointed out.

"Through and through," he agreed. "No I just… I wanted to thank you."

She frowned, "Whatever for?"

"For whatever the hell you said to my parents that made them come around."

She froze, "What?"

"I asked them, when Draco first told me that they had finally given him their blessing, what made them change their minds. They just mumbled something along the lines of _'fucking Hermione Granger'_ and even though they never explained, I just thought I should thank you for whatever it was that you did or said. Don't get me wrong, I was going to marry him anyway whenever he got the balls to ask me, but it was nice to be able to do it with their admittedly reluctant approval."

Reluctant approval? Oh no, no. Hermione would have to do something about that.

She smiled at her friend, "No need to thank me, Harry. You know I'd do anything for you guys."

He nodded, "And we'd do anything for you, too. So try not to give Narcissa too much trouble, okay? Planning your wedding to Prof—er, S-Severus is all she talks about these days. You're like the daughter she never had."

"I know, Harry. I'll be good, I promise."

x-x-x

Hermione cornered the offenders by the refreshment table.

"Hermione," Sirius said stiffly.

"Hermione," Lily echoed, just as displeased to see her.

It was James, surprisingly enough, who clapped her on the back like Harry used to, "Hermione! Great to see you, you look amazing!"

"Hi James," she smiled, greeting him with the small, polite hug they usually shared when they came across each other these days. She tilted her head to the others, "Lily. Sirius."

"What brings you to our little group on this splendid day?" He asked, draping an arm lazily across her shoulders. She could hear Severus snarling already.

Hermione subtly removed herself from his grip under the guise of getting a drink from the table, "I really only came over to speak with Lily and Sirius."

"Oooh, more threats?" James practically bounced on his heels. "I love it. Carry on then; you won't hear a peep from me."

Before Sirius could growl something at his friend like he obviously intended to, Hermione cut in, "Actually yes. I just spoke to Harry and he seems to be under the impression that you two are still a little reluctant over his marriage to Draco. He must be mistaken because that couldn't possibly be right, could it? I thought, after all, that we had an understanding."

"They are practically related," Lily said quietly. "Sirius and Narcissa are cousins. That doesn't strike you as…"

"No," Hermione said definitively. "At best, that would make Draco Sirius' second cousin or something like that and besides, Wizarding families have been marrying each other for as far back as Wizarding history has been recorded. All magical families are related to each other in one way or another these days— surely even you remember that lesson from your History of Magic class?"

Lily looked affronted but Sirius rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "She's not wrong, Lily. It really isn't a big deal."

Ah, so it was Lily who was the problem. She should have guessed. "Is that all? Anything else you need me to clear up before you can get over yourself and be happy for your son on his wedding day?"

"I still don't think that Draco is—"

Hermione rubbed her temples a little dramatically, "Sorry, sorry. These memories have been causing _awful_ headaches these days. Do you think it might help if I were to just remove them and—"

"Alright, alright!" Lily hissed, looking around to make sure Harry was nowhere near. "You made your point."

James let out a barking laugh, "See? I told you it was better to be on Hermione's good side!"

Hermione was about to say something when her stomach lurched. She steadied herself on the table, a hand over her mouth.

"Hey, you okay?" Sirius asked.

She waved her hand, "I'm fine. I've just been feeling a little off the past few days. I'm sure it's noth—" Her stomach lurched again and she gagged. "Excuse me."

Hermione took off at a sprint towards the house, only making it as far as the hedges by the back doors before vomiting violently onto the grass. A House Elf, Mipsy, immediately popped into existence beside her, "Is Miss Hermione okay? Does Miss Hermione need…"

"Bathroom!" She gagged, holding her other hand to the Mipsy. "Quickly, please!"

The House Elf Apparated her into the main house to the bathroom she typically used when she and Severus stayed with the Malfoy's. Hermione stumbled to the toilet and only just managed to lift the lid before vomiting again, tears stinging her eyes.

Mipsy wrung her hands anxiously, "What can Mipsy do for Miss Hermione?" She begged. "How can Mipsy help?"

She held her stomach as another round of nausea gripped her again, "Severus," she groaned. "Please, bring Severus."

In the time it took for Hermione to vomit twice more, Mipsy returned with Severus gripping her tiny, bony hand.

When he caught sight of Hermione slumped against the toilet, he fell to his knees beside her, eyes wide with panic, "What is it, my love? What's wrong? What can I do?"

"I don't know," she croaked miserably. "I just have this cramping pain and…"

"What?" he asked desperately. "Hermione? Please, talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

Cramping. _Cramping_. When was the last time she's taken her contraceptive potion or had her period? She thought back… five, six, seven weeks? She'd also been feeling random bouts of nausea and an increased sense of smell that bordered on canine. Holy sweet mother of Merlin. Was she…?

Hermione bolted upright, pulling her wand from the folds of her gown where she'd had it stashed and waving it over her abdomen in a swirling, twisting motion. It immediately glowed bright green.

Severus sat back on his heels, stunned, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

She nodded in similar disbelief, "I'm… I'm pregnant. Severus," Hermione looked up at him. "I'm _pregnant_."

"We're going to have a baby?"

She nodded again, unable to do anything else.

Severus shuffled forward, lifting her chin with a crook of his finger, "Hermione," he breathed, a dazzling smile spreading across his face. "We're going to be _parents_. You're carrying _my child_."

Tears spring to her eyes at the looks of utter happiness in his eyes, "Yes."

And then he kissed her, completely obvious to the fact that she had just been sick, securing her face to him with his long, slender fingers in her hair and pressing his other hand to her stomach. "I never thought…" He murmured between kisses. "I never imagined we would… I can't believe we…"

She nodded, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks now as her heart swelled with love for the man before him, "I know. I _know_."

When he finally managed to stop showering her with affectionate kisses, he pressed his forehead to hers, " _Parents_."

"We should Floo Eileen and Tobias," Hermione grinned, running her fingers across his face reverently. "They will be so sorry they didn't come with us."

Severus let out a watery chuckle, hiding his face in the curve of her shoulder to hide his tears, "I have a feeling they'll be too excited to mind."


End file.
